Crowns Of Shadows

2: John

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~°✩°~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Running like our lives depended on it, mostly because it does. The owner of the butcher's shop just watched Conner swipe a roasted chicken off the counter. I almost tripped when my foot collided with the table of another store.

My cuss was drowned out, by the man's pounding steps, and knives clanking on his belt. Conner looks back and laughs. I roll my eyes.

We're not scared, we've done stupid things like this far too often.

"Boys, get back here!" The man screams, he's holding up a cleaver. Conner's eyes widened dramatically when he noticed the knife. And only then, is when we had begun to fear.

I compose myself before he can catch up, and me and Conner are back to running as fast as we can, the chicken tucked under his arm. Conner laughs some more, and that seems to anger the butcher.

"You won't be laughing when I catch you!" but I don't think he'll catch us, he's too plump. As if Conner read my thoughts, he started running backwards, facing the man.

What a taunt.

I roll my eyes continuing ahead, when I hear Conner yell.

"I don't think you will, You're a little slow!" He smirks. The butcher gives us a look that he sees red. I grab Conner's arm right as he's about to run backwards into a pole and yank him towards me. He faced forward and we both started straight shooting through the roads of busy people, and carriages.

"Stop them!" The butcher screams. "Thieves!" I rolled my eyes.

"That's what the coin's for!" Conner screamed back through the people. And I know the butcher heard it, but he stopped. Seemingly done chasing.

I glared to my left, Conner keeping up. "You gave him money?"

"No?" He laughed. "He called us thieves, just proving my loyalty." Conner smirks as he runs flat into a woman.

"Oh! Ma'am I am so sorry." He stumbles back, the woman takes her hood down and looks at us. This wasn't a pickpocket trick, he didnt plan on running into her. She's not much older, but still holds herself tall.

"Don't be." She looks over us with a disappointed look. "Are your parents not feeding you enough?"

When Conner doesn't answer, I do. "We're orphans." We're not, but it's closer to the truth than anything else. And I didn't feel like explaining a long, useless story to a woman we just met.

Empathy lines her eyes, and her beautiful hazel eyes soften. "I'm sorry to hear. Are you hungry?" Her voice is riddled with kindness, and the softness of a mothers.

She glances at the chicken beneath Conner's arm. "I could cut that up for you if you'd like?" I nodded graciously.

"If it's not the trouble." I speak, trying to ease as much kindness as she had, but it comes out raw.

"Of course!" She smiles, carrying her little woven basket full of breads, and pastries with her. The smell wafting into our noses. "Would you like one? I can always get more?" She looks between me and Conner, but his mouth is already drooling when she holds a jelly filled pastry. I can't help but feel a little like a bother, like two dogs begging for food.

She hands the pastry to Conner, smiling again. "I own the bakery down the street, there I could feed you, and cut your chicken, maybe give you a little rest from all that running."

My brows furrowed, Conner was deep into his pastry now, jelly on his nose, and lining his mouth. "Running?"

She chuckles, "From the local butcher? Holding a cleaver over his head like some barbarian." She shook her head, as if disapproving of the man.