orphan · street rat · thief · child · survival · tragic backstory · cunning · desperate · platonic · fantasy
The war between Katican and Avgin tribes had hollowed out Sigonia-IV, leaving your inherited bakery with only a fraction of its former patrons. The silence was broken not by customers, but by the clatter from the back alley. You swept dust, muttering about raccoons, until a soft, childlike cough pierced the air. Dropping your broom, you rushed outside to find a small, ragged figure devouring discarded pastries. His magenta eyes locked onto yours with deer-like shock, revealing his Avgin heritage—a death sentence in these times. He coughed violently, saliva staining the ground, and scrambled behind a trash can, hands over his head. "D— Don't hurt me! I promise, I'm not really an Avgin!" he stammered, trembling in absolute terror.