animals, c

Food is hard to come by, money even harder still. If he is to survive then he has to do whatever it takes, even if it means stealing. Yet stealing fruit and other edibles from stalls is too risky. Merchants guarded their wares fiercely, savagely. He found it easy to pilfer wallets from unsuspecting pedestrians.

Its so easy. All he has to do is move close, let them bump into him. He slips his fingers into their pockets and pluck out their fat wallets. He does it just as easily with the dark haired man who mutters his apology, unaware, and keeps on walking. He'll be long gone when he notices.

The boy ducks into the nearest alley, nimble fingers peeling open the leather. He plucks the coins out one by one, and counts them on his palm. He will eat tonight. Fintan will have fruits, vegetables and meat, even some bread.

TORIAN LUCAS

He’s absorbed in thoughts of the meal that lay ahead of him, in the gold coins laid out in his hands, that he doesn’t hear the man’s approach until it is too late. The small phoenix in human guise closes his hands around the coins, spinning around to face his accuser.

“Give what back? These are mine.” He kicks the discarded wallet out of side, hoping it will be hidden behind his cloak. He hides his full hands behind his back. “It’s not nice to accuse without proof.”

TORIAN LUCAS

Those glinting coins biting into his clenched fists were more precious to him than the man could ever understand. Without them, he would go hungry. He needs them to survive. But this man seems determined to get back what is his. And Fintan can do little to protect himself without giving himself away. He’s weak, which is why he steals to live.

His heart is already beating desperately against his ribs. The fear courses through him, makes his hands shake and sweat bead on his skin.

“I took them. They’re mine. I need them.” He is desperate to keep them. This man could easily kill him, and he is part of the people who would hunt his kind down for sport. He had made a grave error. Backed against a wall, he couldn’t even flee. “I won’t give them back.”

TORIAN LUCAS

This mercenary is too close. His hands press against the wall behind his head, the wall which presses against his back and reminds him he has nowhere to run. He only stares into the cold, steely eyes with the sporadic glance to the hand hovering over the hilt. His terror is beginning to blot out all reason.

Heat builds in the palms of his sweating hands until the coins become molten and he can no longer hold them. A yelp tears out of his lips echoed by the clattering of coins. He raises his reddened hands to his few, still seeing the flames licking up from his flesh. And now the fear is pressing in on him worse than before. He tries to shake the fire off his hands.

“I’m a witch,” he blurts out as if to defend himself. The word "witch" tastes like bile in his mouth. His voice trembles. “Step back or I’ll burn you.”

TORIAN LUCAS

A grin flashes on those lips, which only moments ago was turned down and seething. He is taking enjoyment from Fintan’s fear. It disgusts him. All humans were like that, and he hates that about them.

“Your money is melted on the pavement!” He snaps. The flash of steel he glimpses is enough to bring him away from mindless terror. He refuses to be cut down like some animal over melted coins. “Are you an idiot? They’re useless now, and it’s all your fault.”

He wills the flames still licking up his arms, devouring his sleeves, to die down. They refuse at first but he manages to get them somewhat under control as he kneels down pluck at the hardening gold in the cracks of the cobblestone. Those precious coins, if only he could return them to their former state. If only he could so he could eat.

“How am I supposed to buy food when they’re like this?”

TORIAN LUCAS

Furious red eyes aim their glare up at the man standing over him, watching him struggle. How can they be so cruel and merciless? Fintan will never understand. He’s lived his entire life watching humans, most of it from behind the bars of a cage. They have never made any sense to him, then and now.

“I don’t owe you anything.” Torian’s words leave a bad taste in his mouth. “It’s your own fault for not being more careful with your money.”

His anger is surging up, and he releases it with a sharp kick to the other man’s leg. No way is he going to be someone’s captive again, not for compensation for what he took, not if he’d be made to starve. Submerged in the crowd he has a chance for another wallet to wind up in his sticky little fingers. He can replace the coins he melted, and he does. This new wallet is heavier with coins.

TORIAN LUCAS

He moves through the crowd unnoticed, slipping away with the wallet without a hitch until a voice, the voice of the human whose coins he melted, shouts out and labels him a thief. Fintan hopes he melts into the crowd fast enough that no one realizes who the dark haired human is signaling out. Unfortunately, he isn’t quick enough.

Strong, rough hands grip him by the wrist. The wallet he snatched is tucked away in his cloak for safe keeping, but it isn’t long to be found.

“Let me go.” He pleads, fighting the restraining hands. “You’re hurting me. Stop it.”

TORIAN LUCAS