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Not just a stranger
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A tall man, hooded and dressed mostly in white pulled himself slowly out of the canal. He favored one arm, his right, as he struggled to get up and out of the dirtied water.
On closer inspection, a dark red stain and a small round hole in his clothing suggested he'd been hit by an arrow. He'd obviously removed it, but the damage had been done.
His breathing ragged, he dragged himself out of the open, and into the shadows in a narrow alley.
He sat still, trying not to bring any more attention to himself, and inspected his wound.
It was then that he heard the sounds of heavy boots hitting the ground, and shouts from what had to be the gaurds he thought he'd gotten away from.
He silently moved farther back into the shadows, and then found a door. Bracing himself against the wall behind him, he managed to stand, and opened the door. Keeping as quiet as possible, he shut the door behind him, but then collapsed on the other side. His shoulder was slowly becoming more painful, and he suspecte