He makes sure she starts breathing

Clayr is horrified with himself despite his resolve. He couldn't just kill her in cold blood. Getting on his knees, the young man tears away her leather doublet and bits of chain mail. A simple linen tunic laces along her front, dirty with grease. He didn't need to, but Clayr couldn't stop himself. Taking a small knife from his boot, he slips it under the cords that keep her shirt drawn. With a small sawing motion he cuts the strings from her navel, up. His eyes linger over her smooth flesh, devouring the increased exposure with lecherous delight. Soft, toned curves with a hint of muscle comprise the gaurd's torso.

Pulling the fabric up and off her breasts, Clayr is treated to a delightful. Her tits are larger than he'd expected. Milky white, the round flesh is flawless, interrupted only by a set of rosey nips. Momentarily forgetting what he was doing, the young man reaches out to squeeze the orange-sized globes. The woman's nipples stand erect, protesting the cold air. Clayr gasps in surprise as the watchwoman coughs, her chest suddenly rising and falling with strained wheezes. Her eyes remain shut, much to her fortune, the Clayr's knife at her throat.

Deciding it was time to go, Clayr gives one last look at the boobs he had just fondled and dashes away. Before he can reach the exit, another set of footsteps echoes just around the corner. Rearing up stock still, deer in the headlights, Clayr comes to a halt. This was probably it, he decided. As if to confirm, the colors of the night watch round the alley. A thickly built man with a mace and buckler stands in front of his escape. The thief had a choice to make.

Earlier, the young man had stolen some valuable artifacts from a supposed mage. The house had been relatively easy to infiltrate but when he had snatched his last prize, a loud ringing sounded from the rafters. He hadn't believed in sorcery of any type but Clayr couldn't fathom any other way he was found out. So in his possession, the thief had a short stick-like object with strange words burned into it, a small vial of pink fluid, and various valuables along with his tools of the trade.

If magic did exist and he had robbed a wizard, then he could take a gamble. Maybe one of the objects could get him out of this mess. With only a moment to spare, Clayr grabs the first thing in his pocket...