First time along the promenade [Open]

[Sage]

He didn’t care

Of cause he wouldn’t, why should he care? The boy was a thief, self-centred individuals who took what they wanted and didn’t care about the repercussions, there was no honour to be had among thieves so why would one care that someone he didn’t even know was in trouble.

To be honest, Sage didn’t feel he had any right to ask him for his help either, they had only just met, and not under good circumstances and it was only due to some hastily regrettable lie that the two had even interacted beyond him catching him stealing from another. But that was fine, he would square he shoulders and move on, say good bye and figure something out, Alert to watch maybe, draw their attention at the right moment. He didn’t know, it was a fleeting idea that was being kept aside for other more ludicrous plans.

But the thief’s demeanour changed like the wind

“He changed his mind?” Sage wondered, and began to smile sincerely for his change of heart. And then watched in surprise as the thief turned was now sprinting away, slipping past the more casual dock workers and other pedestrians content to mind their own business.

Wait, was he supposed to keep up with-

-He took off after the thief, running as fast as fast as he could to try and keep up. His effort to try and catch up was quickly rewarded by nearly running straight into a stranger, though the man did leap out of the way at the last moment allowing sage to keep up unhindered save for a stream of curses that followed.

“Sorry” he called back.

Unable to catch up to the boy, he began to focus on just keeping up and following the path the boy seemed able to carve through the crowds. He would weave left when the boy in front of him would weave left, slip around another when they crossed his path just to keep that patch of copper hair within his line of sight.

He thought to call out to him to slow down, even as he had to dodge to the left instead of the right, losing his line of sight for a brief second. The pace seemed to be fine however, though he was sure he had nearly run straight into twice as many people than the boy did. “Where are we going anyway?” back to the tavern, or somewhere else? Scara Brae may as well have been a labyrinth to him save for the docks. He just hoped that his companion knew where they were going!

[Vendredi]

He sprinted like the wind, legs whipping across the land with ferocious power. He dove through little-known alleys and curved around the main roads full of people. He did not look back to see if his companion would follow. Before long, they were back outside the tavern. There, hands on his knees, Fii paused and wheezed to catch his breath.

Moments later, he peeked in the front door. No one here. The woman and that man who had interrupted so graciously just now were both gone. Dead end.

Fii, however, was not the type to give up so easily. Without another word, he took off again, this time going deeper into the city, into the shadows, into the dark places where good men feared to tread. Did he knew where he was going? No, not entirely. But Fii knew enough of the shape of the city, and he had some friends on the streets. There was always a sense of camaraderie amongst the poor and the struggling, and no one paid attention to the beggars and the thieves. You saw things, sometimes, when you’re one of the silent and ignored ones.

The sun was setting, and an orange hue was coloring the streets. Fii ran on, occasionally pausing to murmur at a whore or a beggar that he was friendly with, dropping a copper coin or two as he did. That way, they sometimes said. I don’t know, they said at other times.

In the end, Fii wasn’t sure if it was because of the directions they’ve received (or not received), or just pure dumb luck that they found the dead-end alley in the middle of nowhere. His heartbeat was loud enough to echo at that point, and his limbs were sore with tension. He was ready to drop where he stood, and then he looked up and saw --

Oh.

[The Mongrel]

I was surrounded in that narrow, cluttered alley. Two knife-wielding urchins stood to the front of me, both young enough to still believe in their own invincibility. A brass knuckler behind me, big enough to think he could crush me with one mighty blow. And finally, a swordsman at the mouth of the alley, old enough to know that death comes to everyone. Sheer brick walls to either side. I wasn't terribly pleased with my situation; if I'm in an unfair fight, I prefer the odds stacked in my favor. Who doesn't, right?

They had the advantage of territory and thought they had the advantage of numbers. I was quicker, more agile, and only really worried about the final swordsman. There were enough of the others that I could be unpredictable, I could be Qulgurtha, the Wind of Death. That didn't mean this would be a pretty fight.

One of the knifers made a move, more an eager twitch than an actual attack. It was a mistake.

I bounded up the wall, gripping briefly with my boots and one hand, crashing into the debris behind the scraggly youth. Before he could turn, I pulled a dagger from my belt and jabbed it into his neck. A vicious spurt of red erupted as he went down, painting my face and the wall across. Typical human; he couldn't even die neatly.

Terror blossomed on his companion’s face; he was realizing the depth of mortality with twice the impact of his foolish twin. His clumsy human feet scrambled - for me, away. To retaliate or to run? The knuckler didn’t hesitate, barreling toward me with all the speed and power he could muster, great arms swinging like a boar’s head.

Too slow.

I dropped to a crouch amidst the fetid rubbish, launching myself into the air when the big brute reached three strides of me. I flew, spinning over his head and bringing Elendethoa down in a brutal hack. The curved edge hacked remorselessly through skin, muscle, and spine, dropping the knuckler into a heap that wheezed once, hollowly, and didn’t inhale.

I didn’t pay attention to him; he was just another piece of refuse in the filthy alley.

“Move, yurr asshole! Take ‘er dahn!”

The knifer, motivated by his superior’s shout, lurched forward. His poor face was pale and clammy, his skin taut with terror. Two of his fellows were dead in less than five seconds, and he’d only begun to process that. His fear made him clumsy and foolish. All I had to do was bat his puny stiletto aside and drive the same dagger that had killed his brother into his belly. It worked almost as well as I’d hoped; agony burned across my cheek as he brought his weapon back around for an otherwise futile swipe.

And then there was one.

I turned to the swordman, dripping blood from weapons and clothing. He regarded me impassively, my stance, my slick red dagger, the legendary weapon that was equal parts sword and axe. Then he leveled his sword at me.

“Yurr furr the slow ones, the ones who can’t read a fight. Not furr any who knows his way around a weapon, I’d bet.”

“You have bet. Everything you carry, everything they carry, you’ve bet.”

He closed, stabbing expertly at me with his steel longsword, forcing me to dodge or parry while I learned to read him, while he tried to learn to read me. He was strong, he was canny, he knew how a swordfight worked. Our swords clashed and clanged, sending tinny, inelegant notes echoing through the street.

I made my swings purposely wide, let myself slip and scramble in some foul-smelling liquid - likely the last excretion of the knuckler - let him corner me. When he raised his sword for the final blow, I let him see fear.

Then I stabbed my khopesh up, through his broad jaw and into his brain. Too easy. If they’d wanted to kill an elf, the Scourge should have sent elves, not the short-lived, stunted-eared, inobservant excuses for sapient beings that called themselves human.

I struggled to dislodge my sword from its victim, gave my blades a quick wipe on the swordsman’s filthy shirt, then picked up anything I thought might be valuable - some coin, a map. Then I left the alley, reaching up for my hood.

Pounding footsteps caught my attention, and a pair of human boys - the fox and the rabbit - reached the place where my battleground and the open street met. I looked at them, out of breath and covered in sweat. Then I looked behind them, to what had followed behind.

“I gave you boys instructions. You should have listened. Good luck.” With that I turned and walked away. Boys their age who don’t listen to wisdom deserve to experience the consequences of their actions.

[Sage]

The boy lead him back to the tavern, around the corner and down a side street, stopping for only moments to ask a beggar if he had seen someone who fit the woman’s description. The conversation was brief, knowledge traded for a single coin for thanks and then they were running off at a sprint again.

Sage didn’t need to ask what it could accomplish, Scara Brae had a thousand eyes and ears, ask the right person if they had seen someone and you would come across someone who had. But did they really have enough time to ask over a thousand people if they had seen a woman wearing a cloak? Did they have enough time to ask over a thousand people if they had seen the woman they were looking for?
The constant sprinting was also taking its toll too, his body demanded oxygen, and sucking in as much of Scara brae’s air wasn’t exactly the most pleasant experience either. The boy came to a stop once again and took off mere moments later, weaving through the crowd while he followed.

It soon all came to a stop, the boy panting for breath and sage was equally exhausted. He hadn’t run quite like that before, never had too, it was just a feat in and of itself that he had not only managed to keep up with the boy, but was able to run as long as he had.

His heart was racing in his chest, his lungs burning with the need for air and his body still shaking with the adrenalin. He was quite proud of himself by keeping up with the boy; there had been a real fear that he would have simply lost him within the crowd, and then what would he have done then? Without the thief he wouldn’t have known where to start looking, would have gotten himself lost and never would have found the woman to see if she was ok. Ok granted, without the thief he never would have met the woman at all and would have continued on his merry way blissfully ignorant.
Then he looked up towards the approaching footsteps, it was her! She was ok; she was covered in- oh. Sage froze, and looked further into the alley behind the woman were the remains of a major disagreement that lay very, very still.

“They’re dead”

…

The woman looked like war, even with the eyes of predators upon her she had walked away without even a scratch. She had not needed their help, never did, and when push comes to shove sage was starting to doubt that they could have even given the woman any kind of aid, more like they would have severely hindered the woman.

“I gave you boys instructions. You should have listened. Good luck.” She told them coldly while only slightly out of breath.

Instructions?

Goodluck?

Had he missed something? Because he was feeling like he had missed something really important. Doubt began to gnaw on his heels and his good intentions stuttered for just a moment as he focused solely on the woman, ignoring the pile of … in the alley for his own sanity for just a moment.

“I’m sorry, this is my entire fault, but I couldn’t leave you alone without knowing you were going to be …” Sage stalled when the woman just turned and walked away, leaving him mid-sentence and gasping for air.

“…Safe” he finished his sentence quietly, still breathing in deeply after sprinting all around the docks like a pair of madmen for nothing it would seem. The woman was safe she had dealt with the danger that had loomed around her alone.

“She looked like war and I was worried about her” it sounded ironic he noted dismally, but that hadn’t stopped him from just wanting to just want to help. He sighed and fell backwards against the wall, brushing his long hair back behind his shoulder as he did.

Today was, well, he would be glad to see the entire week through, go home back to the vineyard, and never go anywhere ever again. No need to worry about strangers, no need to react out to some sense of justice, and definitely no strange thief’s he could declare his boyfriend. No, today would be buried within the furthest recesses of his mind, probably in that blank area that should have been his earliest childhood.

He didn’t pay any attention to the sound of footsteps approaching, at least not until they stopped and a gruff voice called out

“Well boys, what do we ave ere?”

Sage, very wearily looked up, four men, scruffy, dirty and very much armed, while the fifth one over to the side looked almost like. Sage chocked, “The one that was by the door!”

“Oh no, no, no, no, nononononono” Sage quietly whispered, feeling like a nose had just been wrapped around his neck.

[Vendredi]

Oh, Fii thought, almost mildly.

Oh encapsulated nearly half a dozen thoughts, including her back looks bloody and fuck, dead bodies and the hell did I come for, along with Gods save me and shit, I’m tired, but mostly shit, I’m tired.

And he bloody well was. The woman had turned and walked out of the alley, leaving the boys with a string of corpses to deal with, and Fii did not want to be here when someone chanced upon these bodies. He had no interest in being mistaken for a murderer.

Then, of course, people chanced upon them. Given his luck, Fii could not even be surprised.

There were five of them. Armed. The friendliest-looking of the five looked as friendly as a mad dog in the dark. Oh. Fii thought, and groaned out loud.

He had no interest in being mistaken for a murderer, but he had even less interest in joining the corpses. The five men were blocking the alley’s exit. One had drawn a knife. Was this a simple case of mugging? Or was it something else? Why had none of them reacted to the bodies deep in the alley…?

Fii backed away, moving towards the wall and the shadows it offered, cursing himself for being a fool the whole way through. He should make a run for it. He would make a run for it if there as an opening. Maybe if he stayed still enough, no one would notice him..

[The Mongrel]

Instead of fleeing the scene, I walked into the next alley over and clambered up the rough brick wall. Fifty feet away from the fight and thirty feet above it, I was well out of combat. I could check my own status and serve as final witness to the little fools who had followed me against my explicit instructions.

If they'd simply listened, simply obeyed, they would be enjoying food or drink and - importantly - safety. It was a gift I had tried to give them, a gift they had spurned. Instead, they had followed that so-human need to seek out the forbidden.

I pulled out a small mirror to examine the only real injury I'd suffered in the fight against four. It was still trickling blood; I could feel warm rivulets running from the corner of my nose all the way across my cheek to my hairline. The entire right side of my face felt like it was rolling in thorns at every dainty sea breeze. I could taste copper and salt on my tongue from both that gash and the first, messy kill.

I'd need stitches, I'd need to wash. Both would easily be obtained in Valeena Lake. The road to the town was half a day's walk for a normal person, which meant I could be there in an hour. The sun had only just set; Vim's kids would be in bed and I could explain my situation without fear.

I turned my eyes back to the fight between the Scourge rats and the children who had followed me. The ignoble fox cowered in a hole, hoping he could just keep his head down long enough to survive. The high-strung rabbit was panicking.

Poor kids. You really should have listened to me.

[Sage]

Every step forward the men took was matched by an equal step backwards. But the alley was a dead end and littered with fresh corpses, one more step back and he placed the heel of his boot in something decisively wet. One of them men chuckled at his brief expression of panic, but ultimately the fresh cadavers were perhaps the least of his worries at this time, a fleeting glance look towards the thief slinking closer to the shadows told him he was on his own, and the first chance he got he would flee like any sane person would.

“So where is the elf, Girly?” The fifth man asked, the drunken visage he had within the tavern was replaced with an aloof stare, clearly he didn’t think sage and the boy were any kind of threat and four armed thugs was clearly overkill. Thoughts and plans raced through his mind, each one examined adjusted and tweaked within seconds before being discarded for a potential new angle on how to approach the situation. Sadly, his top plan at the moment consisted of charging, grabbing a weapon that littered the floor and fighting them off by tearing ligaments and breaking limbs. An impossible feat as he had neither to skill or the strength to carry out such a plan, and he didn’t think they would be courteous enough to allow him to pick them off one by one.

So he focused on another avenue that had opened to him.

“Elf?” Sage repeated needlessly, he didn’t know any elves, not any local ones at least, so who was the …

“Wait, do you mean the woman in the hood?”

“Yes, the woman in the hood, where is she?” The leader grumbled, giving him a flat glare. Sage took a glance towards the pool of blood by his heel and the walls that surrounded him. “Stay calm, let’s see how much they like to talk” Sage breathed through his nose, ignoring the ripe smell around them and stood up a little straighter.

“I think you just missed her” he answered honestly, eyeing one of the bodies still twitching.

“I can’t say that I knew she was an elf however”

“Didn’t you now” The man gave a disgusted snort of contempt; leisurely he unsheathed the dagger at his belt and gently running a gloved finger along its length, his brows falling into a frown.

“She just killed four of our men, on our turf no less, so the question is, how much do you know?”

“Less than you it would appear” Sage quietly admitted. Perhaps now he would actually take up his father’s offer to show him how to use a dagger instead of putting it off in favour for the next chapter in a murder mystery. “I need to be able to live through this first”

The man gave a swift not his direction, and the tall lanky man on the left began to move towards him clambering over the body of a fallen comrade as he did, Sage looked for the thief from where he had last seen him, but couldn’t catch any sight of him before the thug was almost on top of him with a hand reaching for the collar of his tunic.

Fight or flight?

He was going to let them take him, he couldn’t fight his way out, he couldn’t talk his way out and he couldn’t run either. It would be less painful this way right? But at the moment where those fingers were wrapping around his collar, he felt cold, a freezing biting chill emanating from the man’s skin like the presence of death itself.

“No!”

He batted the intruding arm away with the back of his hand, and ducked under the outstretched arm and shaved the lanky man with all of his might. Unbalanced and unprepared for the amount of strength sage could actually put behind actually pushing someone, the man stumbled backwards, and then tripped over the fallen body he had just stepped over and fell backwards onto the cold hard floor with a sickening crack.

“Gail!”

“Fucking little Bitch!”

The man he had pushed didn’t move, didn’t groan, he just lay there still and silent, no different from the others currently collapsed in the alley.

"What did I …Did I just kill?"

“Oh gods… I’m sorry, I am so, so sorry. I didn’t mean”

“Sorry ain’t good enough you little bitch!” The leader spat out in anger, gripping the dagger in his hand even more tightly

“He ok?” he ordered one of the others to check.

“He’s breathin but he ain’t movin boss”

The leader just paused at that moment, turning his eyes to the man on the floor and then to the rest of the dead by sages Feet. His free hand clenched and unclenched and his face began to distort into a grotesque sneer as he turned his attention back to sage.

“Were going to gut you, you know what that right? we are going to fucking spill all of your guts all across the fucking alley, were going to cut off all your fingers and all your fucking toes, and were going to make you eat them along with your own fucking teeth!” the leader roared.

Sage physically recoiled at the threat, no, at the promise that the leader had just declared, it sent a chill down his spine and bile in his stomach to rise. He gritted his teeth, swallowing hard to keep it down and focused, thinking so hard, each plan, each idea discarded every time he looked up into the mad eyes of their leader, the hulking muscles on the man on the right, “I don’t know”

“Stay away from me!” Sage ordered stepping backwards to increase the distance.

“Or what, the only reason your even in one piece right now is because I need you to be able to fucking talk!”

“But you don’t need your fingers to talk now do ya?” he crowed, pointing his knife towards Sage.

They took another step forward.

Sage took another step back, frightened and scared and feeling utterly lost and alone. This wasn’t how he expected his first day in Scara brae to be, he just wanted a book, and then to help out a stranger who he had thought needed it, not to cause any trouble, nothing like this.

[Vendredi]

It hadn’t been a bad day until bare moments ago, when all of a sudden it became a terrible day.

Let him deal with them, Fii thought, almost savagely, as he eyed the situation for the slightest opening. The shadows covered him, where he was unseen, and the attention of the men were drawn entirely towards the other boy. Good. That meant he was safe for the moment. That meant he could observe. That meant he had the freedom to wait before he acted.

Fii planned on high-tailing out of here, consequences be damned.

But the alley was blocked tight, and the four men remaining were advancing upon his companion. I don’t even know his name. The wall against his back felt jagged and rough, and the stone was cold even through the fabric of his shirt. For a moment there, Fii wasn’t sure if he was at fault for causing all of this, or if the other boy was the one who had dragged him into this whole mess.

If the men continued advancing deeper into the alley, even the shadows would not be able to protect him. Fii knew this. They would chance upon him eventually, by luck if nothing else. The dread of that certainty sent a shiver down his spine, and his fingers twitched for the hilts of his daggers. Yet, he did not move, for if he did, they might be able catch a glimpse of the metal.

Four left standing. Fii didn’t like the odds. He really didn’t. His companion could take another one down -- and then what? That still left three. Fii could wait for them to take his companion down, but then what? Hope that they forgot about him?

If he was lucky, going by the way they were ganging up on his companion, maybe they already did. Yet, somehow, Fii doubted it..

They were advancing closer now. Deeper into the alley, and the last of them stood almost in line with Fii, so close that Fii could almost hear the other man breathing. Fii held his own breath. His fingers itched. His back was cold and rough. He could hear the drumbeats of his own heart and feel the heat of the thugs’ flesh. His eyes were wide open. I can run now, he thought. He could run and pray that they would not react fast enough to follow--

Fuck. Except he did not. In one swift motion, his hands drew the daggers hidden in his sleeves. Metal gleamed. Without hesitation, and almost without thought, he plunged one deep into the sides of the man closest to him.

[The Mongrel]

Those boys were going to die. They were young, clumsy, and foolish. Against superior numbers who were better armed and more experienced, who weren't panicked and disorganized, there was only one outcome. But it wasn't my problem.

You're watching a couple of innocent idiots get slaughtered by your enemies of half a century, and it's not your problem.

It really isn't. I told them to get to safety.

You told the fox. He's obviously the less sensible of the two.

I am not certain of that. The rabbit admitted to having the idea to follow.

Come on. You've already killed four today. What's a few more?

It's not my problem.

So it's theirs? They're only in trouble because of you, you know. And how are they supposed to learn anything if they die. Kill your enemies, or watch children die. Those are your choices. Because you didn't walk away.

I sighed. That voice in my head wouldn't shut up if I didn't do something. Those boys had earned the fatal lesson, but if they didn't survive it, they wouldn't take anything from it. They would just be dead; two more corpses in the pile. Between the two of them, they might manage to kill one, but it was only one.

Fine. Because they're too young to find their own asses with both hands yet. But don't expect me to hold the hands of stupid human children if they aren't my stupid human children ever again.

I give my Unfoundlings way too much leniency.

Reluctantly, I unslung my bow and pulled a few arrows from my hip quiver. Let me say now, not all stereotypes are accurate. For instance, a dwarf is actually less likely to be an alcoholic than a human is. An orc can be incredibly intelligent, if given enough time to think. Graceful humans do exist.

But if you find yourself in the aim of an elven archer, your best bet is to find a place to hide and pray they didn't find it first.

My bow creaked softly at the end of my pull. The string bit into the callouses in my fingers. The arrow trembled, eager to fly. My targets all glowed in the darkness, yellow-ish orange with exertion, while they boys were whitish-yellow with fear. The one on the fox was just about to plunge a dagger into him, the ones on the rabbit were circling around.

The arrow sang, hit with a satisfying thud, and then there was the soft crumple of a body that knew when to quit. Perfect shot.

The battle stopped, but I didn't. Another dropped, shot through the lung, before the two remaining figured out they were under attack. The faux-drunk from the tavern started to scramble, barking an order to his remaining subordinate, but I put an arrow through that one's skull, and he toppled. The man from the tavern hadn't yet made it out of the alley, so I shot the unconscious one for good measure.

When the leader made it into the open night air, I let loose another arrow, purposely shooting my target through the calf. He screamed, spinning around to land belly up, brown eyes probing the sky. I walked up to where he could see me, fitting a final arrow to my bowstring. His temperature spiked - he now knew the mortal fear he'd put those boys through.

And then goose feathers rested in his right eye socket.

Nine lives. I'd taken nine lives that day. Scourge lives weren't worth anything more than roach lives, but still. What a mess.

The two boys were looking up at me, jaws slack.

"They were breathing too loud," I grumbled. "Go home."

With that, I walked away. Hopefully the boys would learn better for next time, because the world will rarely be kind enough to send someone to protect them. Especially not with them on the cusp of adulthood.

[Sage]

Being surrounded by men who wanted to parade his guts around an alley was enough to make sage freeze in fright, to lock every single muscle like a deer staring down a predator. He had already dealt with his own fight or flight instinct that still screamed at him to move.

He looked up towards the thugs surrounding him, towards the leader who was furious, and towards the shadow that was now moving with such crystal clear clarity. The thief was melting from the shadow a dagger in hand, too close for the fourth thug to react, too fast for him to see anything before it was too late. His cream of pain made the others turn towards him as the thief’s dagger slid deeper into his side. And in that single moment of distraction, when their murderous glares were no longer upon him, the fear disappeared, and everything just seemed to just flow.

He didn’t think as he ducked down, scooping up a dagger resting in the pool of blood at his feet, all he knew was that these men wanted to take his life, steal it away from him because he talked to the wrong person. he was not about to let that happen, he couldn’t, he would fight and he would struggle, but he was no longer going to just stand there and cower in fear. He steeled himself, ready to charge the closest with the dagger in his hand.
Then the Arrows rained down.

They hit flesh with a solid “Thunk” and the men just began to drop with an arrows shaft buried within them. One two, four down, including the one he had managed to knock unconscious. It was her, the woman in the hood, the elf, she stood with an arrow knocked for just a moment to allow him to see where she had been and released the arrow, killing the leader of the thugs.

“You came back?” Sage said wholly bewildered that she was there; he had thought she had left, that she was long gone by now, how, why, the only reason Sage could think of why she would even still be here was if…
Her comment that they were breathing to loud for her taste very nearly threw sage into hysterics, both because it sounded so absurd that she was, in some way trying to say that she didn’t care about them, and because there was a sense of giddiness that came he felt when the sudden pressure bearing down on him had just vanished and he could just breathe easy again.

“You came back” he repeated as she left again for what he was sure was for real this time, he couldn’t help but chuckle as he stood back up. Then he looked down to the dagger he had taken off the floor, it was just a simple iron dagger, nothing special, though the handle was wet with the blood it had been laying in staining his palm and fingers red. The sight of the blood on his hands shattered the clarity he had found, the mirth he had enjoyed at that one moment was flooded by the same wave of emotion that had all but paralyzed him moments ago.

He was about to die, he probably should have died, spared only by the good grace of a stranger whose name he didn’t know. Would this happen again, could it, yes, yes it could, the world was dangerous, he inherently knew that, he had always known it, after all he had been lost once, alone, with no memory of who he was or where he came from, it wasn’t until his father found that he.

His father?

It was way past sundown, the last glimmer of light quickly fading to darker blue hues in the sky and the shine of the stars not quite visible. It was long past due getting back before sundown, he ran his hand down the length of his hair as he shifted from one foot to the other, while the thought of his father angry wasn’t an appealing prospect, it was still a far cry from what he had felt just moments ago.

He turned to the thief, and moved to say something but paused unsure of what to say. They weren’t friends, just another kid like him who got caught up in someone else’s problems.

“I… I better go. Um, I think it would be for the best if we just left”

“You know, in case more people come looking and, um, stuff…” He added lamely though too emotionally taxed to really care all that much. It was best to get away, before they find themselves trapped into another corner again, maybe get on the next ship back home to Corone, back to Crossroads.