The Gift of a Stranger - Chapter 2
#2 of The Gift of a Stranger
Dulam Hagarth liked his job, and for good reason. He understood that he was one of those rare individuals who was perfectly suited to the role that they played in society, and that fact made him happier still. He grinned to himself in the waning evening light, a harsh, toothy grin, and leaned back in his exquisitely tooled leather chair. For a minute or two he stared up at the oaken beams over his head before sighing heavily. The tip of his tail flicked lazily back and forth as he sat deep in thought. His job was not one that required a high level of intelligence, but it was one that required such things as a lust for authority, a desire to intimidate, a certain tenacity and a desire to see justice done. All of those things Hagarth had in some measure, and he knew that as well, for Dulam Hagarth was Captain of the City Guard.
Hagarth leaned forward and arranged some papers on the expansive desk before him. Despite his sharp feline night vision, The rapidly fading light forced him to dig around amongst stacks of papers, boxes of evidence and other paraphernalia that made up the paper trail of law enforcement until at last he found his small oil lamp. He snagged it with a claw and dragged it in front of him. After fumbling with the lamp for a brief moment he finally managed to light it. He grumbled irritably at the stacks of work that sat in front of him as the lamp's feeble glow revealed the full extent of the clutter on his desk. He was in no mood to do paperwork.
While Captain Hagarth may have liked his job, he was, for the most part, just like any other individual. In other words, some days were better than others, and now that he thought about it, this had been most definitely not a good day. He liked to think that everyone under his command worked together as perfectly as a well oiled machine. But in truth, as he secretly knew, even the most well maintained machines will eventually break down. He muttered something under his breath. When that happened, that's when his job held the least amount of appeal for him. He prided himself in the carefully contrived and controlled network of patrols and informants that he himself had devised and set up, and he was not a happy person at all when his system broke down, and break down it had, and in a big way. He snarled his annoyance and snagged an offending box off of his desk with claws extruded and tossed it to the side. It impacted the wall with a muffled metallic clank.
Hagarth calmed down somewhat and stared at the stone wall for a moment as he thought over the unusual events of the day. A rogue human, who would have thought. The Pale Ones hadn't been seen in these parts in over a century and the memories of them had been fading into legend, as they should have been, until early this afternoon. There had been a disturbance reported at the stables, and by the time his guards had responded to the alarm, the lone human was on the run, leaving a trail of terrified innocents in his wake. Hagarth himself had responded to the alarm and had seen the creature break down the door of a residence. Both of his hurried pistol shots had only narrowly missed the fleeing human. The human had fled up to the second floor of the residence and barricaded himself in a room. When capture had become imminent, he had then jumped out a window in a desperate attempt to escape and assaulted the guard who had taken up position in the alley. A very dicey situation had resulted. Hagarth bared his teeth in a snarl. Somehow, the beast had wrested a sword away from the guard and had her pinned up against the wall. The guard's sword had been clutched in his right paw and his arm had been drawn back, muscles poised and ready to strike cold steel into the guard's throat. That was the scene that greeted Hagarth's eyes when he thrust his head out of the window from which the human had jumped.
For some strange reason that Hagarth had yet to fathom, the human had not struck out at the helpless guard. In the disconnected, accelerated mayhem that followed, He had clearly seen the creature drop the sword into the snow and back away a couple of paces. The canine lieutenant beside Hagarth had thrust his musket out the window and taken aim at the human. Hagarth recalled seeing the human's head turn up towards him in those last few seconds before the deafening blast of the musket brought an abrupt end to the chase. What he had seen in those eyes still loomed large in his memory. He had seen in them the pure, undiluted terror of one who was trapped in a situation that had spiralled out of his control and that was something he had not expected. He tapped a clawed finger on the desk while staring at the wall. Humans were a violent and despicable species. They had nearly destroyed this world in ages past and in doing so had condemned their race to a slow, lingering death. Hate and anger were what he knew he should have seen in those pale eyes and he had yet to understand why those emotions hadn't been there. He'd had some encounters with humans in his youth and all of them had left a seed of bitterness and anger that still lingered in his soul. Shortly, Hagarth shook his head in dismay and did his best to push his troubled thoughts concerning the human out of his mind. He would get his answers later. Once again he rooted through the clutter on his desk, this time extracting an inkwell and a rather battered quill from the mess. These he set down rather harder than he had to, and a frown settled on his features. He despised writing reports to his superiors even on a good day, and needless to say, this was one report he was not looking forward to writing. With a deep rumbling sigh he searched about for a suitable piece of paper.
Questions would soon be asked. Answers must be given, and answers Hagarth would give. He grinned in the gloom of his office. A large part of his effectiveness as Captain of the Guard lay in his ability to tell his superiors exactly what they wanted to hear. This report would prove difficult, as this was a most delicate situation, but as Hagarth knew well, words could be twisted around to make events appear to have happened they way he wanted them to have happened. Fortunately, few people had seen the human as he had tried to evade the Guard. Hagarth knew well that those few witnesses could be bought or ... Convinced of the error in their ways. Evidence could get lost or damaged. Hagarth tapped a claw on the desk. A plan was beginning to form in the ordered depths of his mind. What his superiors didn't know wouldn't hurt them, and he doubted that any of those highborn fools would take the time to investigate his report any further as long it didn't contain any troubling information that affected them directly, and he would make sure that it wouldn't. He snickered slightly as he dipped the quill into the inkwell. He stared into the depths of the shadows in his office for a moment, his paw hovering uncertainly over the rough paper on the desk in front of him. A slow smile grew on Hagarth's muzzle.
In the delightful cool of a late autumn evening, curious shadows were cast against the oaken beams and the stone walls in the office of the Captain of the Guard. The Captain himself sat hunched over his desk with only the feeble light of an oil lamp making sense of light and shadow. All was quiet except for the relentless scratching of pen on paper.
"Hmmm. Yes...."
Constable Annayah Genner sat perched on the edge of the cold steel examination table, only half listening to the middle aged vulpine doctor talk to himself as he examined her. Her head hurt, and she was having trouble thinking clearly. At times, the walls seemed to spin around her before snapping back into place. She clamped her muzzle shut, trying to hold back the nausea that welled up. The nearly overpowering odour of disinfectant chemicals that was ever-present in the Hospital certainly wasn't helping her to feel any better. Her vision swam in and out of focus at random. She gripped the edge of the table tightly and closed her eyes, her claws clattering on the smooth surface. Doctor Garen looked at her with concern. He made a small note on the clipboard he carried. With a gentle paw he pushed her muzzle to the side and explored the wound behind her ear with probing fingers. Annayah gritted her teeth. Doctor Garen hummed thoughtfully. He put his clipboard down on the table beside Annayah and rummaged through the drawers of a nearby desk. After a moment of noisy searching that did nothing for Annayah's headache, he returned with a small pair of scissors and a bottle of disinfectant.
"I'm going to have to clean that cut behind your ear. Would you lie down please?"
Mutely, Annayah nodded and eased herself onto her side. The cold steel table sent chilly fingers through her fur. The room started spinning again.
The methodical snipping of the scissors was the only sound in the room for several minutes. Annayah stared at the wall and tried to clear her mind. Once the snipping ceased she felt the doctor's fingers gently explore the area behind her right ear. She tensed as raw nerve endings voiced their displeasure at being disturbed. There was the sound of a cap being unscrewed from a bottle, then there was the sensation of pressure, and a delicious coolness spread through the wound. The pain dulled slightly. There was a thoughtful grunt from Doctor Garen. "A few stitches should do the trick." He went back to the desk and rummaged noisily through the drawers again. Annayah grimaced. She felt something warm start trickling down through the fur behind her ear.
Doctor Garen returned with sutures and another small bottle. "I'm going to use an mild analgesic to numb the area before I put the stitches in. You shouldn't feel a thing." Annayah nodded. There was the sensation of pressure behind her ear once more. As the minutes dragged on, a tingling numbness spread through the area, and she relaxed somewhat. She wished that Doctor Garen could do the same thing for her entire head.
Annayah felt her fatigue catch up with her. Her eyes opened and closed lazily. She very nearly drifted of to sleep. Doctor Garen's voice startled her back to awareness.
"Can you feel that?"
"Feel what?"
The Doctor chuckled. "Good. I'm all done."
Annayah sat up slowly, blinking painfully in the suddenly too bright lighting in the room. Her headache returned with a vengeance and she grimaced in pain. She looked down at the tufts of white fur scattered on the surface of the steel table with distant apathy. It would grow back, eventually. Her paw went to the bald patch behind her ear. Under her finger pads, she felt naked skin and the bumps from the stitches. She shuddered slightly.
Doctor Garen picked up his clipboard. "I should think that you will recover nicely within a few days," He said as he scribbled some note down. "But until then, I recommend that you get some rest. As of this moment, you are off-duty until I give you a clean bill of health." He looked up from his work. "You are very fortunate. Had you not been wearing your helmet, it is likely that we would not be having this conversation. As it is, you have a serious concussion, and the cut behind your ear needed seven stitches to close." He scribbled something else down and pulled a sheet of heavy paper from the clipboard. This he gave to Annayah.
"Take this to Captain Hagarth. It contains my report of your injuries, your treatment and my recommendations for your recovery. He will need it to authorize your medical leave and disability pay." Annayah took the proffered sheet of paper and held it uncertainly in her paw.
"Now go home. Get lots of rest. I don't want you to do any hard physical labour for at least a week. It would also be a good idea to have someone stay with you for at least the first day or two. Your condition could worsen with little or no warning." Doctor Garen held her gaze for a moment. "If you have any problems whatsoever, make sure you come and see me. If not, come back in a week's time and I will remove those stitches."
"Yes Doctor." Mumbled Annayah. She eased herself off of the table and stood unsteadily. Was the floor moving now too? She groaned and bent over slowly to retrieve her armour from where it lay in a pile beside the table. The stone floor was cold under her footpads. She gathered up her armour in her arms and clutched it to her chest, wincing as she straightened up. Doctor Garen handed Annayah her helmet. It had a sizable dent in the side of it.
"Thank you for your help Doctor Garen."
"That's what I'm here for." His voice was soft and there was sympathy in his brown eyes. "Remember, don't hesitate to call on me if you experience any strong side effects from your concussion."
"I'll do that. Thank you again Doctor."
Doctor Garen nodded. "Take care."
Annayah wobbled her way out of the examination room and out into the waiting area. Dizziness and nausea stole over her now that she was back on her feet. There were a few other people waiting to see the doctor but they barely registered to her numbed mind as she stumbled blindly past them and out the door.
Doctor Garen watched Annayah leave and sighed once the door closed behind her. He picked up his clipboard and stared sadly at it for a moment. He frowned and slowly walked out of the room. His head was full of conflicting thoughts and emotions as he walked the short distance to his office. Once there, he sat down heavily at his battered and paperwork encrusted desk. He held up Annayah's medical report and read it over carefully, a sad expression overtaking his vulpine features. The Captain of the Guard himself had ordered that there would be no paperwork. Apparently, someone in places considerably higher up the ladder than he wanted the incident covered up and they didn't want a paper trail that could be followed. For a moment he wondered just what the world was coming to when innocents had to be manipulated to cover up the truth, then he leaned forward and held the edge of Annayah's medical report over the oil lamp on his desk. A tongue of flame leapt onto the paper and black smoke curled up to hug the ceiling. Garen dropped the report to the stone floor and watched sadly as it was consumed by the flame.
It was still snowing.
Annayah stood outside the Hospital, a forlorn figure nearly lost amid the falling snowflakes. Buildings of melancholy grey stone rose up on either side of her, blending in with the overcast sky that darkened by the minute as the light faded. The street was deserted, and only the occasional light burning from behind the safety of a window gave any clue that there was life in what appeared to be a deserted town. She made her way down the empty street, ears back and trail hanging limply behind her, heedless of the cold slush beneath her bare footpads. She paused to lean against the corner of a building and let the world spin around her for a moment. She blinked and shook her head in a desperate attempt to force some measure of stability back into her world. It didn't help much. She groaned and sagged against the cold stone.
Hopefully she would feel better after she got some sleep. Her entire being cried out for the blissful respite that only a good night's slumber would bring. Soon, she told herself, but first she had to go see the Captain, and that was a task she was not looking forward to. A piece of her armour slipped of the top of the pile held in her arms and fell into the snow with a muffled clank. She swore softly and bent down unsteadily to pick it up. She almost lost her grip on the rest of her armour as she did so, but managed to catch herself before she dropped everything. She snagged the offending piece of armour form the snow and straightened up painfully. She readjusted the load in her arms and continued her slow pace towards the Guard House, leaving a trail of meandering footprints in the soft snow.
Annayah blundered in through the main door of the Guard House, shedding water and melting snow onto the floor. She dragged herself over to the office that sat against the back wall of the guard house and stood stiffly at attention in front of the long counter, blinking painfully as her eyes adjusted to the lighting. The feline Sergeant behind the counter looked surprised to see her. He looked her up and down with amusement showing in his green eyes.
Sergeant Taemus Lorwin was a rather typical example of his species. Outwardly, he rather resembled a bobcat, and consequently he was rather shorter in stature than many of the other species that inhabited the city. The tips of his tufted ears were about level with shoulders of the large, wolfish looking canine that stood before him. The stench of wet dog almost made his head spin. At first he was unsure what to make of this rather bedraggled looking individual who carried a load of armour in her arms, and was clad in nothing but her fur. He looked up at her quizzically. He could hear water dripping onto the floor on the other side of the counter. It took him a moment to place her scent in his memory.
"Ah, Constable Annayah. You are... Out of uniform."
He received a grunt in reply. Annayah glared down at him from over the pile of armour in her arms.
Lorwin hesitated briefly. Constable Annayah looked more than a little miffed about something. His eyes went to the helmet that sat on top of the pile of armour and clothes in her arms. His eyes widened when he saw the size of the dent in the side of it. He cleared his throat nervously and his ears sagged a bit. Annayah glared at him impatiently.
"Uh... Captain Hagarth left a message with me that you are to see him as soon as possible." Was that blood he saw that stained the fur behind her ear?
Annayah sighed heavily and nodded. Deflated, she staggered past him without a word. Lorwin relaxed somewhat as he watched her go. He always had been a little edgy around canine types, especially the larger ones. He wasn't sure why, but he was able to breathe a little easier once Constable Annayah was past him and heading down the hallway to the barracks. He craned his head over the counter when a metallic clatter echoed out from the direction she had departed. It was followed by a string of muffled curses. Lorwin's ears went back, and he stared wide eyed down the hall.
Someone is certainly having a bad day, Lorwin thought. He sniffed the air, sorting out the traces of scent that lingered after Annayah had departed. The nearly overpowering odour of wet dog was slowly fading away now, and underneath it he could just barely discern the sharp scent of disinfectant and traces of blood. He wrinkled his nose in disgust. She'd been injured and had been to the hospital, he knew that much at least. There was no mistaking the stomach turning scent of the disinfectant that the local hospital was so fond of using. Briefly, he wondered what had happened to her, then he shook his head and shrugged. It was none of his business, he knew that. If anyone wanted him to know, he was sure he would find out soon enough.
Lorwin sat back in his chair and regarded the ceiling with intense interest for a moment. There were few things he disliked more than the monthly rotation that forced him to work a desk for a week. He sighed and leaned forward to arrange some papers that were strewn across the battered desk in front of him. He picked up the note that the Captain had left for Constable Annayah. Lorwin's green eyes flickered briefly over the Captain's angular script, then he crumpled up the note and tossed it towards the wastebasket on the opposite wall. It bounced off the wall, hit the rim of the metal wastebasket and hopped straight up in the air before curving gracefully back to land in the bottom of the basket with a gentle thud. Lorwin grinned to himself and turned back to his work.
In the cool silence of her quarters, Constable Annayah sat motionless on her bunk. The room itself was not much to look at. It was cramped to say the least, measuring barely three metres by two and a half meters. The walls and floor were of grey stone while the ceiling overhead was of some dark and heavy wood, most likely oak. Her bunk was wedged in one corner of the small room, and took up most of the available space. A battered wooden desk was pushed against the wall next to the bunk. Upon it, an oil lamp cast out a feeble light. A small window interrupted the monotony of the stone wall above the desk. Iron bars bolted to the window frame gave the impression that this tiny room was more a cell than living quarters. An old mirror graced the wall opposite the bed, right next to a rather plain wooden wardrobe that contained Constable Annayah's few worldly possessions.
Annayah'a armour sat in a pile next to her on her bunk. She stared dismally at it, fighting the urge to sweep the whole mess onto the floor and relax into blissful slumber. She slumped forward, her paws crossed in her lap. She sighed. Gods, she needed to rest. She blinked tired eyes and yawned, wincing as pain flashed through her head. She stared at the floor for a moment before she started the laborious process of putting all of her armour back on, a procedure that was so familiar to her that she did it without thinking about it.
An image of the human's face flashed into her mind and Annayah brought a trembling paw to her throat. She screwed her eyes tight shut against the memory of cold steel resting menacingly there. She shuddered and swallowed convulsively. So close to death, and she had been so afraid that her muscles had gone rigid and wouldn't let her do anything. She had waited for the human to thrust his blade forward but she had seen some indefinable expression flicker across his pale features. As he suddenly dropped his sword and backed away, she saw terrified realization in his eyes. An eternal moment had passed between them in that brief second before being brought to an abrupt end by the blast of a musket from the window above. She wondered if she would ever be able to forget the sound of the musket ball impacting flesh. She doubted it, for it was something that would forever be etched into her memories. She stood up slowly and looked herself over in the mirror. She straightened out her breastplate and tried in vain to remove some of the dried blood, her blood, that stained it. She looked back up to the mirror and jumped back with a soft cry welling up in her throat as a ghostly image of the human's terrified face stared back at her before fading into her own image. Her own fear wide eyes stared back at her and her ears were clamped flat back against her head. She raised a paw in front of her face and was fascinated by how it was shaking. She tried all sorts of ways to stop it, to no avail. She hesitantly smoothed down a few patches of her fur and tried to force her ears to stay up. Her paw was still shaking. She clamped it into a fist and let it drop slowly to her side. The human's last words echoed in the empty recesses of her head. I'm sorry. Briefly Annayah wondered what had happened to the human. Chances were that he was dead but she wasn't sure. She had blacked out shortly after the human had been shot and had woken up in the hospital. She would have to ask the Captain about him.
Annayah plucked her helmet from the bunk. She was going to put it on but she looked at the dent in the side of it and tucked it under her arm instead. She pushed open the door of her quarters and made her way down the empty corridor, claws clicking gently on the rough stone floor.
The Captain's office was in the far west wing of the Guard house, some distance away from Annayah's quarters. Annayah stumbled her way down poorly lit corridors, one paw never very far from the wall in case the dizziness overtook her. It seemed like forever before she finally stood in front of the heavy oak door that led to the office of the Captain of the Guard.
Annayah took a deep breath and tried to calm her frayed nerves. She didn't like the Captain very much, she found him to be a rather irritating and arrogant individual, and one who had a bad habit of using his position to his advantage. However he was her superior officer and as such, he had to be dealt with accordingly. She ran a paw over her head before reaching out and rapping her knuckles loudly on the door.
There was a brief pause, then a voice heavily muffled by the thick wooden door said "Enter."
Annayah pushed the door open and made her way into the Captain's office. The door swung closed behind her with a hollow clonk that echoed down the empty corridor.
Annayah strained her eyes into the gloom. The feeble light from a small oil lamp sitting on the Captain's desk provided the only source of light. Annayah gulped nervously. Relics from ancient and long forgotten battles adorned the stone walls and cast grotesque shadows in faint glow from the lamp. After hesitating briefly for a moment, she stepped forward, the cold stone under her footpads giving way to luxuriant carpet. She strode forwards purposefully, and snapped to attention before the expansive wooden desk that occupied the center of the room. Polished wood gleamed in the dim light.
Captain Hagarth was busy scribbling something down on a piece of paper and appeared not to notice her. After a moment of silence that was pierced only by the scratching of pen on paper, he put his quill down and looked up from his work. "Ah. Constable Annayah. How are you feeling?"
"My head hurts... Sir."
Captain Hagarth looked at her curiously for a moment then grinned a humourless grin. "I imagine so. It is not every day that one catches a marble bookend thrown from a second story window in the back of the head. It is most fortunate that you were wearing your helmet."
"Yes. Sir."
Captain Hagarth regarded her silently for a moment and scratched one of his ears. "At ease, Constable, and have seat before you fall over."
Annayah relaxed gratefully. "Thank you sir." She manoeuvred herself into the single plain wooden chair that sat in front of the Captain's desk, and sat uneasily on the edge of the seat. Captain Hagarth stood up and stalked around his desk to lean against the front of it and regard her with a piercing amber-eyed gaze. His tail swished back and forth idly. Annayah suddenly felt very nervous.
It was Annayah that spoke up first. "Sir, I have the report here of my injuries from Doctor Garen. He said that you would need it." She held out the piece of paper to the Captain.
"Ah. Yes." He took the report from her fingers and his eyes flickered briefly over it. He hummed thoughtfully. He walked back around his desk and sat down. He picked up the quill, dipped it in the inkwell and scratched down a few notes. He leaned back in his chair and steepled his fingers, his face falling into shadow as he leaned away from the light. His amber eyes bored into Annayah's soul. "The doctor says that you are off duty until further notice, and who am I to argue with him?" The briefest of smiles graced Hagarth's muzzle before fading away. "Your disability pay will be two thirds of your normal salary, and you are to get as much rest as possible."
"Thank you sir."
"Now, on to more important things." Hagarth leaned forward in his chair expectantly. "What do you remember about the incident?"
Annayah shifted uneasily. "Most of it... Sir. I remember Sergeant Juneau ordering me to take up position in the alley behind the house. I remember being stunned by a blow to the back of my head. I remember..." Her voice faltered and her ears snapped back. She swallowed nervously and began again. "I remember scuffling with the human and then somehow he managed to get my sword. The next thing I knew I was pinned up against the wall and he had the blade at my throat." She began to tremble. "I thought for sure I was dead, but he dropped my sword and backed away. Then there was the shot from the window above." She paused for a moment, collecting herself. "I went up to the human as he lay bleeding in the snow. He said "I'm sorry". After that I must have blacked out because the next thing I remember I was in the Hospital."
Captain Hagarth stared at her curiously for a moment before speaking. "Yes, you did black out. We had to carry you to the hospital. We were quite worried about you for a while there. The Doctor originally thought that your injuries were far more severe than they turned out to be. Fortunately it would appear that you will be fine after a week or so." He grinned.
"I hope so sir." Was Annayah's quiet reply.
Hagarth grinned in the dim light of his office. "That makes two of us." He said. He paused for a moment before continuing. When he spoke again, his voice had a dark edge to it. "This incident involving the human has stirred up a veritable hornet's nest of activity and inquiry. A cover story has been prepared that states that you were attacked by a puma who was being pursued for assaulting another member of the Guard." Hagarth paused for a moment and stared coldly at Annayah. "At no time and to no one are you to mention that there was a human involved. Ignoring this order will result in severe penalties. Do you understand me Constable?"
Annayah's ears went back. "Yes sir."
"Good. I won't keep from your rest any longer Constable. You are dismissed. I will have someone check on you in the morning."
Annayah stood up slowly. "Thank you sir." She paused uncertainly for a moment. "If I may ask sir, what happened to the human?"
The briefest hint of uncertainty flickered in the amber depths of Hagarth's eyes and his tail gave a sudden jerk. He grinned at her, a toothy warning grin. Annayah gulped nervously. "He is dead. Do not concern yourself further with such thoughts. Now go."
"Yes sir." Annayah saluted hurriedly and turned and fled the office as fast as possible.
Captain Hagarth leaned back in his chair and stroked his chin with a paw while deep in thought. After a moment he leaned forward and picked up Constable Annayah's medical report. He studied it in detail, noting at the very bottom of the page, scrawled in the Doctor's rather poor handwriting, the prearranged code that they had decided upon that meant that the Doctor's copy of the report had been destroyed. Hagarth smiled to himself. Thus far, his plan was going ahead smoothly. He crumpled up his copy of the report and tossed it into the wastebasket beside his desk. He would take the contents down to the incinerator later.
Hagarth flipped open his file on Constable Annayah and leafed through it slowly. She was a relatively recent addition to his force, having only been employed for ten months. She was a newcomer to the city as well. His records showed that she had come from the frozen northern reaches of the land, one of the very few Wolven who made the long journey away from their tight knit clans and well established territories. Hagarth grunted thoughtfully. She had no relatives in the city, or within five hundred kilometres of it for that matter. She had few friends within the Guard and none without. She kept to herself for the most part, a quiet, rather introverted individual who would be missed be very few people indeed, should something happen to her.
A thoughtful frown settled on Hagarth's features.
He would have to keep a very close eye on her. She remembered enough about the incident with the human to pose a serious threat to his plans should she start digging around. He mulled over certain possibilities for that scenario in his head. He could try to buy her loyalty, but from what he knew of Wolven, they were notoriously honourable and would seldom stoop to accepting a bribe. If that were the case, well, being a guard was not without it's dangers. Constable Annayah could suffer some sort of... Accident. Sure, her clan might be a little upset, but such were the perils of a Guard's life...
Hagarth stood up and moved over to the window behind his desk. He looked out over the quiet city, paws clasped behind his back. It would not do to let this incident with the human get out of the bag, so to speak. Not only would it create an uproar among the inhabitants of his beloved city, it would likely mean the end of his job or even, depending on how upset his superiors in the palace became, his life. He would not let such a thing happen. His eyes went to where Annayah's file lay open on his desk. No, he wouldn't let it happen, even if it meant having to rub out a few individuals who were guilty of nothing more than being in the wrong place at the wrong time.
Hagarth turned his attention back to the city before him, a shadowy figure barely seen against the backdrop of dark sky and melancholy stone buildings.