After hurling a few more insults in the general direction of the now fleeing Thing (as I had decided to call it, seeing as I hadn't the foggiest what it was and couldn't be bothered to chase it down to find out) I looked up at the window. There was movement up there, so I presumed whatever the Thing had grabbed was alive. Or vaguely alive at least.
I flew up to beside the window, landing on the sill and peering into the room. Mark and his human were inside, the human on the floor and Mark kneeling beside her. There were claw-marks on his clothing, so I presumed it had been him the Thing had been after.
I'd just saved someone's life. How heroic.
Hand me the sick bucket.
Jumping off the windowsill, I moved over to stand behind Mark as he examined the human. There appeared to be something wrong with her, and Mark was looking rather panicked.
"What's up with her?" I asked.
And please, I added mentally, don't expect me to save the day again.