A second later, and Locus lands in a crouch not far off. It just takes one lunge after that to close the distance, seizing hold of York from behind with an arm. Caught, at last.

If he were mortal, his heart would be racing. But that feeling is still there, oddly heightened. The hunt, the chase? Or something else entirely, perhaps. He stands still there for a moment, surveying York with those pale eyes.