Your instincts are telling you to get inside, that you won't have much longer before daylight — and disaster — will catch you. But the pocketwatch... it is possibly the only thing you own of any importance to you. The thought of leaving it out there for someone to find is like a stab in the gut; you can't let that happen.
Staring at the rapidly brightening horizon you grimace, revealing a mouth full of frighteningly sharp teeth. "Damn it all to hell," you mutter under your breath, dropping off of the roof in one graceful movement. Thankfully the scene of your last meal isn't too far. If you stick to the alleys you should be able to make it there without being seen. Getting back, that will be the issue...
Rapidly rounding the first corner, you glance around to ensure that the side street is empty. Satisfied, you run down the smelly street at an unnatural speed, your soft-soled boots slapping noiselessly against the pavement. At the next intersection you dart left, bisect three alleys and then cut right. There, you note, seeing the pile of trash and junk under which your kill (and hopefully your watch) lay.
Rummaging through the pile of refuse repulses you but you perservere. If my old friends could see me now, how they would laugh! You grin, remembering how Boris, especially, used to taunt those who lived in such filth...calling them names, practically spitting on them from his perch on the back of his horse. He wasn't a very nice man, Boris, you muse, your fingers moving through the garbage, seeking something hard. Maybe that's why killing him didn't bother me all that much. He called them peasants, but his death wasn't any different just because he was a nobleman.
Your fingers finally closing around the watch chain, you pull the beloved memento out from underneath a split bag of trash and let out a sigh of relief. It's dirty but otherwise undamaged, the picture still intact and clean. You stand and turn around, ready to make your way to the safe house, only to be nearly blinded by a ray of sunshine that is just breaking over the horizon. Letting out a hiss, you flatten yourself against the wall, weighing your options.
A little further down is a steel door that probably leads to the back of a restaurant or store. You could try to get in but there's no telling what could be inside. Or, you could attempt to get back to the safe house, despite the rising sun.