Hawk took another sip of beer. He caught an object on the ground with his foot and idly kicked it up into the air--it ricocheted off the nearest pole with a loud ringing noise. He was now wandering through a deserted, industrial section of town, lit by orange lamps that had been left on over doors. As he descended a small embankment and skirted a pool of liquid coming out of a pipe that came out of the hill, a buzzing noise caused him to stop.
Ahead of him, through the fog, he could see a green flash light up the front of a hangar and the underside of an overpass that crossed to his right. The crack and hiss that came with it made him shiver involuntarily. Frowning, he moved towards the source of the light.
The smoke streaming from Numair's mouth as he ran was a dark, translucent grey. His breath came in gasps, but he kept running, gripping his bag so it didn't bounce against him.