Mo loved the wind. There was nothing better to him than a dark summer afternoon with a strong wind howling down a city chasm.
Mo might be a woman, a girl. She had blue hair, but here, in this wet alley under a dark, roiling sky it's lightning blue.
Mo flashed her teeth at the man with the tentacle tattoos down his arms. He was pale, bald, tall. Three blue tentacles writhed around his right arm. Two red tentacles snuggled around his left elbow.
"Please move." Mo said.
The man with the tentacle tattoos shrugged. "Sure." he said, and stepped aside.
Mo hugged the damp wall, circled past the tall, tentacles, man. She snarled at him, teeth bared.
Impassively, the tentacles man twisted his neck impossibly far. He grinned and Mo turned and ran