A suitable Home. (Raikou please.)

Draze ducked down into a alley. It was nearing midnight, and it had been 3 hours since he had stepped through the Senkai gates into the real world. He hefted his backpack, filled with supplies including books, first aid kits and other necessities, and continued through the alley to come out onto another road. From maps of the area, he knew he was heading for the river. He hoped there would be a place an invisible person might be able to set up a temporary camp.
The air was awash with reitsu. There wasn't as much as the thick presence of Soul Society or Hueceo Mundo, but compared to the barren air of the rest of the world, it was like swimming through soup. Draze had to focus on matching his reitsu to the external environment, but winced everytime he messed up and sent a small gasp of reitsu intothe night air.
This preoccupation may have been why he didn't sense the bieng making its way to him.

Instincts are a funny thing. Instinct tells you to pull your hand away when it touches something dangerous, and helps you do it at speeds one cannot really muster by force. Instincts preserve you in the face of danger.
Which is why it is so strange that, when confronted with an unknown danger, the human body is commanded by instinct to freeze, and thus make yourself a target.

Draze was such a slave to instincts. As he turned from the alley, and began walking down the narrow road, he heard the distant gurgling of water that marked his target.
He began to speed up, breaking out into a jog, backpack bouncing against his robed back, zanpakuto swinging to and fro at his waist.
Then the howl rang out.

When a physical body is moving at a slow enough pace, it can stop and still remain upright. This speed, and how high or low it can be, is governed by the shape, density, center of gravity and flexibility of the object. Of course, the object must be flat, with a high density, low center of gravity, and fairly flexible, to achieve maximum speed before braking.

Draze's instincts made his body freeze for but a moment before he regained control, but the damage was already done. He was a fairly tall, lean shinigami, with a heavy backpack up on its proper place. As we all know, the human spine is fairly flexible, but only in one direction.

He fell, and rolled once down the path, before he righted himself. He had not noticed the rustling bushes as he hit the floor, for obvious reasons.

Crouched, with one knee to the ground, and one foot ready to stand up, he drew his zanpakuto and let his secondary set of instincts take over. Battle instincts. He had fought Hollows before, and knew that trying to outrun them would be a fatal mistake. Crouched low, sword held over his back with two hands, he scanned up and down the street before turning to look at the roofs of the houses that lined it.