Raven quickly tied a rope around the now dejected looking Midnight, her face looking thunderous. She said something to his, her tone murderous before she turned to look at Vladimir, checking to see if he had recovered his bag in one piece.

Despite the fact that he had one bottle less, Vladimir saw it optimistically.
Well, that'll give me one more reason not to call Damascus.
He laughed quietly to himself, putting the bottles cautiously back into the bag, closing it, and heaving it over his shoulder. He scratched the back of his head, turning to Raven.
"Eh, it's okay. I just kinda wasted a little of my time, but nothing a good run couldn't help."

Raven, breathing slightly heavily, nodded once.
"Sorry about that. Midnight has... high spirits and a pain-in-the-butt attitude." She said, glaring at the colt who was doing his best to attempt an innocent look as Merlas and Sarkan ambled slowly over.

"No need to be sorry," Vladimir replied, still grinning, "everyone gets sorta wild every now and then, don't they? Anyways," Vladimir added, taking a look back, "I gotta go. I don't know what the meeting's about, but I'm sure it's gotta be dead serious."

Raven nodded once.
"I'd better get back to the clan before Midnight causes any more damage." She said, sighing. The mad chase had tired her out even more, and she was not in the best of moods with the colt. All she knew was that she would be glad to get home so that she could curl up and sleep.

Vladimir turned around to the direction he was previously going to. He remembered the words that the mayor had said to him before. He remembered the whole discussion.

Vladimir knocked on a wooden door. It slowly creaked open, and he peered through the small opening that it had given him. The mayor, sitting on a comfortable chair behind his desk did a small hand sign for him to come in. Vladimir pushed the door open, and closed it behind him. His purple trenchcoat flowed behind him as he walked over to the table, to sit on the only chair in front of the table.
"Good morning, Vladimir," the mayor granted.
"Good morning sir," Vladimir answered quickly, "you called?"
"Yes, in fact, I did," the mayor had answered, "I would like to begin with a very simple question. Do you know what Mafia is?"
"I've already had it on my back, yes," Vladimir answered, remembering the time where he had taken the wrong door in a restaurant, which brought him to a top-secret room, where dozens of men dressed in black were discussing. "why?"
"Have you ever seen this sign?" the mayor asked, reaching in a drawer of his desk, and pulling out a piece of paper. He unfolded the paper on the desk. It was a letter. The mayor pointed with a pale finger, the bottom of the page. Vladimir leaned in, inspecting the paper closely.
Where the mayor's finger was pointing at, was a sort of signature. Two circles, one black and one of a dark crimson color, each slightly overlapping each other. On the touching side, there were two smaller circles of the same color as the two circles, forming a sort of shape that resembled two crescent moons sticking to each other. Vladimir frowned, and looked up at the mayor.
"Yes," Vladimir answered honestly, "I've only seen it once, though... As a tattoo. On a man's forearm, if I remember correctly."
"Would you be able to describe this man?" the mayor asked, slightly tense.
"No, sorry, he was wrapped up in towels, or something. He was sleeping, and his forearm poked out of his clothes. I didn't really bother, to be honest."
"Where was he?" the mayor demanded, standing up.
"Uh," Vladimir replied, searching, "I really can't remember. What has this to do with him?"
"He's part of the two-moon mafia. They've been causing trouble for long enough in the world. In deserts, mostly, doing illegal trade of black gold and such," the mayor explained. Vladimir stood silent, thinking. He couldn't remember a thing of the man he had seen. Nor where he had seen him. But he was sure he had already noticed that marking.
"Vladimir," the mayor uttered, breaking Vladimir's thoughts, "Meet me here, in exactly two weeks. By then, I'll have decided what you need to do."

Vladimir sighed heavily, continuing to walk away from Raven and the horses. He really wondered what the mayor was going to do with him. He was hoping not to send him where a lot of policemen resided. That would only make his fears worse.

Raven watched as Vladimir left, and then Merlas said something to her.
"You want to what?" Raven asked the mare, confused. Merlas quietly repeated her request, and the demoness sighed.
"I suppose you're right. Best keep an eye on him." Raven murmured a few words of a spell, cloaking Merlas' wings from view. The mare nodded her head once in thanks and trotted after the part angel.

Vladimir thought he heard the hitting of horse-feet on the ground behind him. By reflex, he took his bag and turned it right behind him as he quickly turned around to meet the horse. Luckily for him, he was able to notice at the last moment that the horse wasn't the same one which had nearly eaten his bag. He relaxed, heaving the large object over his shoulder again, remarking that the horse didn't have its wings anymore.
Some sort of weird spell, I guess, he thought. But why the heck are they following me? If one would follow me, I would much prefer Raven. At least she LOOKS like a human.
Vladimir sighed, rolling his eyes, and continue walking in the direction of where he needed to go.

Merlas silently walked at Vladimir's side, looking around the city. Her hidden wings were tucked close into her sides. She shook her long mane. It always disturbed her when she couldn't see her wings, but she had sensed something about this man, and to her, it was a part of her duty to the clan to investigate such things.

The brown-haired half-angel continued walking, nervously glancing around street corners every time he would pass one. After a quarter-hour of walking, Vladimir appeared in front of a tall building.
The windows reflected the sunlight , making Vladimir have to squint to be able to at least look at the facade. He pushed open a glass door, making sure his bag didn't bump into anything.
Casting a sly glance in the direction of the woman behind the shelter, he discreetly shuffled over to the elevator. He hoped that the horse wouldn't be able to follow him until he got out of the building.
After pressing a small silver button, the elevator took him to the twelfth story. A small ding announced that he had arrived to destination, and Vladimir nearly tripped out of the elevator.
There was a large hall, ornamented with diverse accessories such as fancy lights and green plants, that led to a small, normal-looking door. Vladimir walked until that door, without bothering to contemplate the variety of things that were trying, in vain, to satisfy the eye.
Vladimir hesitantly knocked on the door, remembering the last time he had done so. He pushed it open, and saw the mayor in his seat. He gave him the same hand sign, which Vladimir immediately recognized, and Vladimir closed the door, before putting his bag against the desk, and sitting on the only chair in front of it, as he prepared to listen to what the mayor had to say.

Merlas stood opposite a hitching post, resting one back hoof in the attempt to look like a normal horse, even though Shire cross Arabs are rare in the desert. She knew that Raven would be back in an hour or so, or at least she hoped. There was definitely something unsettling about Vladimir.

The mayor ominously began by standing up, his hands easily rested on the slick wooden surface of the desk. The unfolded letter had been delicately laid down on the table, right in front of Vladimir's eyes. He took his chance to glance at the sign which he had only seen once out in the open.
"Vladimir," the man announced, looking at him with stern dark brown eyes, "we have thought and discussed about this. Do you remember our last meeting?"
"Yes, very clearly, sir," Vladimir replied. He didn't want to seem impolite in front of somebody important, especially that he could send Vladimir in prison as easily as snapping his fingers.
"Then this is what we have as information," he answered, turning around, to face the window. He curled his arms in his back before he answered. "The two-moon mafia's main residence is in America, New York. We want you to disguise yourself as one of them and take out as much information you can get before we pass to our next phase."
"Seems like a good idea, but," Vladimir replied, not wanting to sound rude, "how do I get to America?"
"To make you as unnoticeable as possible, we already bought the tickets for the next plane."
Vladimir twitched.
"Wait, what did you say? That last word..."
"Plane."
"Plane?!"
"Plane."
"I hate planes!" Vladimir opposed, remembering the last time he had taken one. To his knowledge, he was the only survivor of that flight. But, far as he was concerned, it was their fault. There should be maps to find the toilets in planes.
"I'm sorry, Vladimir, but that's your only choice for now. The car is waiting for you downstairs."
"I'm not going."
"Do you prefer living your life in a 4-square-meter cell?"
"I'm going."
Vladimir turned around, picked up his bag, and headed for the door. As he put his hand on the doorknob, the mayor wished him good luck. Vladimir gulped, and closed the door behind him once he had gotten out.

Merlas watched the car that had pulled up out of the corner of her eye. She was half dozing, resting a back hoof. She wondered if Raven was going to be back soon or whether she was going to have to follow this guy herself.

As Vladimir reluctantly descended the building, a faint little voice at the back of his head kept repeating the same thing over and over again.
I don't wanna go by plane...
Vladimir looked up, and saw Merlas from behind the glass.
Same goes for flying horses.
Vladimir stepped out, sighing heavily. He turned his blue eyes over to the car that parked in front of the building, obviously waiting for him.

Merlas watched Vladimir walk out of the building, looking troubled. She nickered quietly, wondering what was wrong. His body language was repluctant, as if he was being pushed into something he didn't want to do.