To hold my tongue except when I try to pray...
The steady hum moves like a great tide and spills into the Night Markets. This is his favourite part of Denocte. Traders selling their wares, equines haggling down prices, and the children of the streets hanging around with the hope that they may get lucky. It is his favourite because of the life it breathes into this court, and because of the thrill, it brings to him when he is able to pocket an item for one of these forgotten children. Out here he is not bound by the rules of his house. He is one of these wild children, although he has rarely wanted for much. Reinhart feels at peace, even in his loss, out here with the urchins and miscreants. As if the burning in his soul has found a balm that may soothe the ache, even if it is only for a short time. He is putting off returning to the house he shares with his relatives for as long as possible.
Even with that thought hanging over his head, and looming over him like dark, heavy clouds, he is able to enjoy the bustle of the markets. The Appaloosa bronc takes an opportunity while a vendor is distracted to nab a loaf of bread from their shelf as he walks by. There is something that still feels off about him. He is still confident enough in his skills as a thief that he wastes no time. The guards will surely be out for his hide in no time. After all, Ezra always was their favorite target. A smile graces his features as he delicately holds the bread between his teeth. He disappears down a dark zig-zag of alleys until he comes to a run-down space that is nestled in the forgotten parts of the city. The places where those who clean up the streets conveniently forget about. The places where the children have created a kingdom all their own.
Where they rule over each other. Reinhart places the bread on a nearby brick wall that is jutting out of a nearly crumbling building as he turns to return for a second shot at scoring more food for the children out here. He hears the scurry of hooves as he turns away, and he thinks nothing of it. This is what he lives for. The adrenaline, and the ability to help others.
Even with that thought hanging over his head, and looming over him like dark, heavy clouds, he is able to enjoy the bustle of the markets. The Appaloosa bronc takes an opportunity while a vendor is distracted to nab a loaf of bread from their shelf as he walks by. There is something that still feels off about him. He is still confident enough in his skills as a thief that he wastes no time. The guards will surely be out for his hide in no time. After all, Ezra always was their favorite target. A smile graces his features as he delicately holds the bread between his teeth. He disappears down a dark zig-zag of alleys until he comes to a run-down space that is nestled in the forgotten parts of the city. The places where those who clean up the streets conveniently forget about. The places where the children have created a kingdom all their own.
Where they rule over each other. Reinhart places the bread on a nearby brick wall that is jutting out of a nearly crumbling building as he turns to return for a second shot at scoring more food for the children out here. He hears the scurry of hooves as he turns away, and he thinks nothing of it. This is what he lives for. The adrenaline, and the ability to help others.
... try to breathe words out, But I’ve got nothing to say
