Arthur wasn't planning on dashing down an alley, of all the foolish things, but must at least give it a look to see if it leads anywhere promising—like, say, if there's any presence of light at the other end and a lack of structures to block his exit, that would be ideal.

Presently, he makes the dopey move of looking right back over his shoulder to see what Mr. Footsteps is up to back there, and uses the same turn of his head to judge the alley mouth on the way back to facing front. He's more or less prepared to be jumped at any moment, but really hoping he won't be, as much as chronic pessimism will allow. Still, anyone looking to touch him can expect his response to involve a fist.

(What a thoughtful lurker, waiting for him so patiently. He will be sure to thank it personally when they meet.)