Layla's childhood was as ordinary as a daughter's whose mother had passed away early in her life could be. Growing up surrounded by a dominant presence of male figures in her life, she turned into a strong, courageous individual, prepared to tackle...
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"Sir Dunkin, save me!" yelled a young boy, squealing loudly before crashing straight into the back of a tall, hard figure and landing on his posterior with a 'thud'.
It was a warm summer morning, and the villagers of Risnuch were fully awake as they carried on with their daily activities, bringing life to the village. Merchants were selling their fresh vegetables and fruits, while others showcased unique items of jewelry and clothing on their stands to attract buyers.
It was a busy day like any other with crowds filling the marketplace and young children running in-between the different stands as their parents bought their necessities from the small shops. The shops' owners walked around fervently with wide, genuine smiles on their faces as they chatted away with their customers, making sure they were completely satisfied.
Similarly, Sir Dunkin, an old man in his late forties, was carrying several sacks of flour inside his small bakery located right across the busy market, when the young boy ran into him, making him lose his balance for a mere second.
The older man turned around to see the damage of this small incident and spotted the boy on the ground. "What is it now, Morrie?" he said, not surprised at the sight ahead of him. He held his hand out and helped a frantic-looking Morrie get back on his feet, while shooting him a questioning glance.
"It's Layla! She's gone absolutely crazy! She wants to place various things on my head and aim at them with the new bow you've gifted her! It was fine with the big fruits, but a raisin? A tiny little raisin?" he exclaimed rapidly within a single breath, pulling at his hair, wide-eyed.
"Dear Lord, I do not wish to lose an eye at such a young age. Please save me, Sir Dunkin! You're the only one who can stop her!" he cried hysterically, pleading with both of his hands intertwined.
Morrie was currently fourteen years old and an orphan; his parents had passed away when he was around the age of four, leaving him under the care of his uncle and his family. Despite being surrounded by individuals who were related to him by blood, Morrie was treated like a servant during his childhood, until he got fed up and ran away from the place he should have known as home.
It was under these very circumstances, on a rainy day, that a ten year old Morrie ended up running into Sir Dunkin in front of the same bakery he currently stood of. He explained his situation to the kind, generous man who immediately welcomed him to stay at his place for the time being.
Morrie accepted the offer without a second thought, but decided to offer his help at the bakery for which he quickly developed a great interest. Sir Dunkin, taken aback by the child's pride, agreed quite happily.
And so, four years later, Morrie lived under the same roof as Sir Dunkin and was considered like family since Dunkin refused to let anyone treat him otherwise.
