Vasher thought, determined not to run.  He reached into a pouch at his belt, pulling out the object within: a dead squirrel.
	Yuck, Nightblood said with a sniffing sound.
	Vasher knelt, putting a hand on the creature.
	“Awaken to my Breath,” he Commanded, “serve my needs, live at my Command and my word.  Fallen Rope.”
	Those last words, fallen rope, formed the security phrase.  Vasher could have chosen anything, but he picked the first thing that came to mind.
	One Breath was leached from his body, going down into the small rodent’s corpse.  The thing began to twitch.  That was a Breath Vasher would never be able to recover, for creating a Lifeless was a permanent event.  The squirrel lost all color, bleeding to grey, the Awakening feeding off the body’s own colors to fuel the transformation.  The squirrel had been grey in the first place, so the difference was tough to see.  That’s why Vasher preferred to use them.
	“Fallen Rope,” he said to the creature, its grey eyes looking up at him.  The security phrase said, Vasher could imprint it with an order, much like he did when performing a standard Awakening.  “Make noise.  Bite people.  Fallen Rope.”  The last use of the word closed its impressionability, so it could no longer be Commanded.