A nameless Fae boy stopped in the middle of the road, acutely aware of the rough cobblestones that had replaced the loose dirt that had been outside the city walls. The hot afternoon air rasped at his dry throat. His hands nervously clutched at the collar of his oversized shirt, the only clothing he had.
He had finally come to the source of the distant light at night, just like he had promised himself, but he wondered if he would have been better off just staying in his little forest and wondering about it eternally. The Fae was confused, exhausted, and completely famished, and no-one in this bright, unfamiliar place seemed to be willing to give him the time of day. People brushed against him, chattering loudly in spoken words, a concept entirely unfamiliar to him. His knees quivered, ready to give way at any moment.
The Fae stared at the rows of buildings and crowds of people arrayed before him with no clue as to where he should be. He was lost.
An ore-laden cart pulled by a thickly chained harecat dashed right past him, the wheels spraying mud into his face. The lady dwarf driving it yelled out something harsh - it might have been profanity. Partially blinded by the mud, the boy ducked away, desperately stumbled over the curb, and smashed his head into a wooden sign post.
He gripped the post a moment, attempting to steady himself against the pain in his head. The strangeness, the hunger, the hurt, it was all too much for him. The ground seemed to buckle under his feet - or were those his legs giving way? - and he collapsed onto the street.
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