Pick woke up uncharacteristically early, or at least he thought he was early. The streets were quiet and the light outside looked young.

"Well, I'm already up." he mumbled to himself, as he rubbed the sleep from his eyes and stretched. With a yawn he lurched forward and rose from the luxury bed he had been sleeping in. He stumbled over to the closet and found his worn clothes and armor next to the paralyzed body of the homeowner. Picks eyes widened as he suddenly remembered paralyzing the sleeping noble and tucking him away for the night. The man was still asleep, but Pick could not tell for how long. It seemed  that, once again, fortune was in favor of the wood elf. He grabbed the nobleman by the shoulders and attempted to half drag/half carry him to his bed. However, Pick's persistent grogginess, coupled with less than average strength, caused him to drop the nobleman on his head. The unfortunate noble woke with a start but quickly found himself unable to move. Pick instinctively cast an invisibility spell and vanished before the rich man was aware of his presence. While invisible, Pick released the man from the paralyze spell he had been under.

"This isn't good" Pick thought to himself, "well it's not terrible either. I just wish I had more time in this beautiful room." He crossed to the window and look out on the street. He really had woken up early. People were just now beginning to move and open shop. The noble behind him was calling for help, and Pick genuinely hoped that it would come. After all, he had been a very generous host.

"Sorry for the inconvenience, but I was in a bit of a hurry last night" Pick yawned. The noble became startled, "I know you're a very rich man, but I want you to have these anyway as a token of my gratitude." Pick placed two, now visible, gem stones on the windowsill. 

"I'll be going now. Thanks again" Pick then cast Teleport to reach the street below. However, being a novice to such magic, he managed to get his right foot phased into cobblestone road.

"Uh oh" The invisible elf thought, "not again." He didn't trust himself to teleport out. Not after last time. He had no choice but to call for help.

"Hey can anyone help me! My foot's stuck!" Pick shouted, but had forgotten he was invisible, and couldn't quite figure out why no one was coming to help.

Feyre was strolling through the cobblestone paths of the city, admiring the shockingly quiet streets, when, as if out of thin air, cried a distressed cry.

"Hey can anyone help me! My foot's stuck!" A voice, seemingly male, yelled out.

The sound seemed to come from behind Feyre and she turned around, her two pale pink braids swinging against her back. Seeing no one there but an old baker, she narrowed her solid black eyes. Her pierced and pointed ears twitched from beneath the cloak she was hiding under, and she questioned whether or not she imagined the yelling.

Pocket had been sitting on a roof all of this dull afternoon, he needed some fun.
He climbed down the house and heard a noise from down on the road. Leaping down he listened for the noise again "Hey can anyone hear me!" 
he sniffed the air and walked towards the stench of Elf on the air, suddenly he stepped on somthing squishy.