With careful steps, Quagmire stalked the shadows, lying in wait for his next victims, though from now on, he had to make sure that he would not get lost in his own world of thoughts. If it were not due to his quick responsiveness, then he might be in his grave or roaming the streets forever. Which he does not want to happen.
As he began to adjust to his surroundings, and his adrenaline dwindled and passed, he began to make out the surrounding areas around him, which included the pervasive scents that wandered around. The atrocious assault on his sense of smell was the most foul, along with the lingering scent of burnt wood and rotten meat that seemed to permeate throughout the entire fortress.
