The owl watched the shadow race along the catwalk with fascinated silence. It's talons scraped across the crumbling bark of the oak's topmost branch, sending flakes of wood tumbling into the tall grass below. Sunset-colored eyes followed the figure as it vaulted onto the railing, wrapping its slender fingers around the metal in a miniature explosion of chipped paint. They tilted their head to look at the two guards below. One fiddled with his rifle while the other crushed the red glow of a cigarette beneath his boot. The owl blinked and ruffled its feathers, wishing the moon wasn't so unbearablely bright.
The shadow on the railing two floors above the guards flipped the visor of their helmet up, allowing the moonlight to trace the delicate angles of their face and cast a silver glow into their narrowed eyes. They blinked long and slow, taking the time to carefully scan the surrounding treeline. The owl dug its talons into the branch as silver eyes met yellow ones.
The first guard crumpled to the ground, rifle never getting a chance to hit the pavement before the figure's hand shot out to grab the barrel. The second guard's jaw shattered under the force stock, and his eyes rolled back into his head before he joined the other guard in a heap of dead weight. The figure dropped the rifle into the tall grass, wiping their hand on the front of their uniform. The owl narrowed its eyes and blinked; their kind were never fond of such weapons.
Raising a delicate finger, the figure flipped their visor back down over their face, leaving the owl to gaze at a reflection of the waving cattails that ringed the compound's yard. The figure tilted its head and the owl stilled. It shuffled back into the shadows of the branches, once again glaring at the radiant glow of the moon. The sky wasn't on the side of the watchman that night. The figure's shoulders suddenly dropped and they gave a barely perceivable shake of their head. It was a startling out-of-character move that made the owl's feathers stand on end. In one smooth motion, the figure raised two fingers to their helmet in a lazy salute. With that, the shadow soundlessly disappeared into the twisting menagerie of the compound's catwalks, leaving the watchman to blink its sunset-colored eyes in apprehension. The shadow would be back. Their kind never took left any loose ends with these sorts of things.