He sat, hunched over in the alley he'd made his home since his last Walk down the streets. He'd lit the nearest trash can after removing the newspaper near the top about the raid. The fire would stay strong for a long time, while his donation cup lay beside him, his two guns well hidden inside his jacket. He was hard to find, if you weren't friends with the rest of the homeless in the Narrows. To the frightened, the undefended,to, in some cases, the unhinged, he was a savior. A protector sent from the Heavens. They would never give him up, not that anyone ever asked them. To everyone who didn't follow the path that desired vengeance they could not attain, he was a shadow, a tall tale. To those that did, he was easy to find, just ask the anyone, and they could send you on your way.