Had his mother actually had time for him, and not the hordes of other children in their household, she might’ve instilled a sense of stranger danger in him. Instead, as the man approached, the boy remained perfectly still – eyes widening a fraction, perhaps a bit like a piece of prey, a morsel to be easily snagged, carried off, done in. As it was though, the youth could only nod, mouth agape in something akin to wonder, bewilderment, and foolishness. “Thank-“, the acknowledgment and gratitude cut off again by more coughs, more reminders of eventuality. Of doom. Of nothing.
It had been a good spot, but he’d still been found.
Did he want to be?
Then the boy’s mind was distracted, deterred, by thoughts of magic. “Like, like the Abandoned?” Because…for all the stories, he did want to see some.
It had been a good spot, but he’d still been found.
Did he want to be?
Then the boy’s mind was distracted, deterred, by thoughts of magic. “Like, like the Abandoned?” Because…for all the stories, he did want to see some.
