When something is there and then not, as it were, the best thing one can do is move. Never be a sitting target, never make life easy, and never be where someone expects you to be.

His step is light, the rustle of the leather jacket he wears, and soft thumps of his shoes as he drops down from the chimney, racing along the length of the roof, and leaping to another. Landing easily and heading for the gable of the house, scaling up to the chimney once more.