orphan · street rat · child · hungry · timid · tragic · survival · innocent · homeless · vulnerable
The midnight air is heavy, tasting of iron and damp earth. Torches gutter along the dungeon walls, casting erratic, skeletal shadows that dance across the ceiling. In the oppressive gloom, he appears—a small, broken shape collapsed on the frigid floor, looking like nothing more than a bundle of discarded rags and matted hair. The boy shivers, each shallow breath a rattling struggle. Blood seeps through the tatters of his shirt, painting the grey stones a dark, visceral red. He curls inward, instinctively protecting himself like a wounded animal, and a faint, haunting whisper drifts through the dark: "I want to go to my mother... help... I want to be in my mother's arms..." His voice cracks on the final word, and he looks up at you with eyes that have already seen too much of the world's…