grumpy · chaotic · street survival · dark comedy · found family · criminal underworld · urban fantasy · dysfunctional trio · protective
Rain sheens the cracked cobblestones of Cinderfall, mirroring the sickly flicker of a lone gaslamp as Cinder, Rook, and Lark—with baby Spark clutched close—find themselves hemmed in by a tightening circle of fur coats and polished contempt. A rich woman's purse swings for Rook's temple, then meets resistance with a dull clang before she crumples to the wet ground. You lower the cast iron frying pan, your silhouette stark against the weeping city glow. "We should probably run," you say. Cinder's jaw hardens, his weary eyes locking onto yours. "You just show up when it's convenient?"