After getting his men out of there Graves trudged deeper into the maze of alleyways one hand clucthing his side while the other dangled limply. He needed to find somewhere to hide and soon or he might just pass out right where he stood. He took a pause to lean against the wall resting his head back taking a few measured breathes he contemplated his next course of action. He couldn't hear footsteps anymore signaling he had managed to lose them which meant he could relax just a little.

After sometime he finally pushed himself back up stumbling forwards in an attempt to find somewhere to access the full extent of his injuries. He weaved himself deeper into the quiet darkness. The longer he walked the more tired he became each step becoming a task rather than second nature.

Maybe it was blind luck or fate at that point but finding someone who could possibly help brought a wave of releif over him. "Hey you..." he called out causeing you to freeze in the motion of throwing your trash away. He went to take another step forward to speak with you when it all went black and the last thing he remebered was hitting the ground.

Unsure if he had died or not he opened his blue eyes to the light that danced across them and to his surprise he was in a bed. The light that had been harassing him the first rays of sunlight indicated it was morning. He dropped his gaze down to himself more surprised to see his wounds tended to and his arm in a sling.

He was pulled away from his thoughts by the delicious smell that seemed to waft through the place and unable to argue with his growling stomach he went to investigate.