Ember Hawrhorn was always good at stealing, it was how the young fairy survived. After leaving her abusive mother at the age of 14, she had spent the last five years on the streets. She lived off of stolen food from street vendors, picked pockets s...
'Well shit, I should have stocked up sooner.' I thought to myself while groaning. It had been three days since I ate the last item in my food bag. I kept putting aside filling up my stash, and now the dizziness was kicking in. 'Stay strong, Shailyn. We should be able to find food soon.' After the quick pep talk, I hopped to my feet and waited for the tunnel vision to fade. Once the world was clear and stilled again, I began my walk to the flea market.
Being a fairy had its perks, I was small, so it was easy to dodge people. Sometimes, I get lucky and they simply move out of the way, mistaking me for a kid. Normally I could fly too but right now I need food for me to do that. With my talent of not bumping into anybody, I made it to the flea market fairly quickly and looked around.
With a quick flick of my wrists, the hood to my oversized gray hoodie was up. My first destination was the apple stand. They always gave a free apple to kids, and the hood helped me look the part. After an apple had been slipped into my bag, I looked around once more. My eyes landed on a basket full of plums, and I casually made my way to them.
"Hello there child, are you here all by yourself?" A middle-aged female werewolf asked. I could tell by her scent that she was OK to trust though so I nodded.
"Yes, ma'am. My papa isn't feeling very good today, so I offered to be a big help and get the groceries today." I lied my usual tale.
"How thoughtful of you, dear. If you need any help, just let me know." She gave a smile before helping another customer.
While the vendor was busy, I examined each plum, occasionally palming a few and slipping them in my hoodie. Wearing oversized clothes made it easier to hide things. I did take some coins out of my pocket and went in line to pay for one. While the stealing was out of necessity, I always felt a little bad. My guilt always made sure to at least buy something from each vendor, that way I was giving at least something back. Even if it was only 50 cents.
After paying for the one plum, I placed it along with four others in my bag. With my last 3 dollars, it was time to head over towards the fresh bread. I bought one loaf and pocketed a roll before slipping into an empty alleyway. I had enough food to last me a little while without rotting, so that's all I needed.
After a quick lunch of a roll and plum, the rest of the food was stored in my bag and placed on my back. The next thing I needed to do was always the hardest. My shoes were ripping, which meant cash was needed. Since jobs don't like to hire the homeless, the only option left was to pickpocket. With a sigh, I got to walking again. Occasionally "accidentally" bumping into people. A quarter or three would land in my pocket, and a random item would end up in theirs. Sometimes, it was a pin, or a bottle cap, or rubber bands. Anything I could find to give back. A total of three dollars ended up in my pocket before I made a very grave mistake.
The scent of a Griffin didn't hit me until after I tried my next tripping act. A strong hand had gripped my right wrist when i reached for his back pocket.
"And what exactly do you think you are doing?" A rough male voice asked as another pair of hands grabbed my shoulders. That's when the scents hit me. Of course I would accidentally steal from the royal guards. How lovely for me. The man I tried to pick pocket had short whitish blonde hair, while the man who spoke had black. Neither one of them looked happy with me.
Oddly enough, I felt a lot more calm than I should have been in this situation. I was scared while also smelling the scents around me. The rough man holding my shoulders smelled scary and dangerous, but the one holding my wrist smelled safe? Why the hell does a big strong Griffin shifter smell safe?
"Let's take this to a more private area, Quinn. I do not wish to publicly embarrass a child. However, we will be addressing this little minx, so I suggest you follow." The male holding my wrist spoke sternly. His voice was a lot smoother than the apparent Quinn holding my shoulder. It was smoother and yet a lot more dominant. Without thinking, my normally rebellious brain nodded as we walked into an empty alleyway.
Once we were away from public eyes, I was spun to face the shifters once again. "Lower the hood mynx." The not Quinn man said.
I must have hesitated a little too long because Quinn growled and took the hood off for me. There was nothing but silence for the next few moments as they both saw who the thief really was. Quinn looked angry upon seeing an eighteen year old fairy pretending to be a child. The blonde haired man, on the other hand, looked amused. I glanced up, confused on why the man I tried to steal from, found the situation so humorous.
It wasn't till I looked up and met his eyes that it hit me. We were taught about this in elementary school when I was younger. We were told that it happened on rare occasions. Never in a million years would I have thought the world would really do me this dirty.
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(Quinn ^)
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