Jenna slipped silently from her hiding spot. She stalked down the alley, making no more noise than her silhouette did as it glided along the grimy wall. The man she was pursuing stumbled to and fro, like beer sloshing in a drunkard’s mug. He staggered against a wall, swearing when he stepped in a pile of unknown composition. Jenna held her knife ready as she closed the distance. The man thrust himself away from the wall and took a few more stumbling steps. He didn’t understand the bright burst of pain the plunging dagger produced, and died confused and gurgling.