A Little ThiefMature

Light grey eyes opened slowly and the boy groaned quietly as his stiff limbs and muscles connected with his brain and pain shot up through his legs as he stretched.

He wiped a hand over his eyes wiping the tears that sprang up suddenly. He sniffed and looked up the light was slowly rising over his home town magick fire that the elders kept circulating in the massive cavern that his species had lived in for centuries.

He stood slowly being mindful of his injuries and looked around and saw a woman in her garden hanging out the washing as the heat rose with the light. The boy chewed his lower lip for a moment thinking quickly before he walked casually towards the town, it was still early and the few people who were awake weren’t in the streets. Nearing the hedge that surrounded the gardens he ducked down peering through the leaves he waited for the woman to go back inside, carrying her empty washing basket. He slipped through the hedge gritting his teeth as the braches tugged and pulled at his hair and sore skin. Reaching up he managed to catch a white bed sheet by the corner and wrapping it once around his fist he tugged and squeaked slightly as it fluttered down over him. Balling it up, he wriggled back through the hedge, yipping as a sharp branch caught his torn wing.

“Hey,” a voice bawled and the boy ran carrying his prize and hardly noticing the sharp stones and rough grassless stone beneath his feet. Running full speed into the forest outside the town boundary he skidded to a halt breathing hard. Falling to his knees he closed his eyes.

“Mother Goddess, forgive me, my sin.” He said quietly bowing his head then he stood and doubled the sheet up then wrapped it around his waist tying it tightly. “well, at least I'm not naked.” He muttered “that’s a plus, now…” he thought and as if in answer his stomach grumbled and he sighed. “alright.” He said answering the rumble.



An hour later the boy sat nursing his freshly bleeding knee a handful of fur sat discarded beside him and somewhere in the undergrowth a hare was probably nursing a bald patch.

“Bollocks” the boy grumbled and stood up testing his skinned knee. Then looking back he saw the light dimming around his home and then he turned and began to slowly walk away through the forest. 

The End

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