They snarled and snapped their jaws. Those damn hounds followed you into garbage-strewn space between two shops. The crumbling brick and peeling paint walls were bowed with age, and laundry hung from lines strung from second story windows across the gap overhead. Barks echoed as they dodged around drunken derelicts and scavenging cats. Soon, you hit a dead-end.

"Where are you going?" Sepehr grinned as he stepped beside his hounds, holding a muzzle. "Got somewhere to be?"