The North Wind Flows South

𝘊𝘙𝘈𝘊𝘒𝘴𝘴𝘴...𝘊𝘙𝘈𝘊𝘒𝘴𝘴𝘴...𝘊𝘙𝘈𝘊𝘒𝘴𝘴𝘴...One in her shoulder. Then, one in her stomach. Finally, one in her heart. Grey stood there, defenseless and vulnerable--he is only a child. A vanilla bean scent falls beside him, and a pearl necklace cracks by his right foot. A delicate, tan hand lays on the same foot; her red nails glimmer in the streetlights. Grey's eyes focus on a singular, white pearl. It rolls forward, only to be stopped by a pair of black combat boots, which were shined to perfection. Grey's eyes follow upward, landing on a man as tall as the skyscrapers above. The older man's jet-black hair curled this way and that. His oceanic blue eyes drown the toddler in front of him, glaring him down. He raises his gun at the child, but his trigger finger hesitates. It seems like they are stuck in time, waiting for the other to pull a move. Suddenly, sirens cut through the silence. Red and blue lights illuminate up and down the long alleyways. The culprit makes his great escape, leaving Grey short of an answer.