"All Capitol Forces take heed: District Thirteen has been neutralized. Suppression of hostile forces within the remaining districts is now authorized."

- Bulletin from General Bernardus Valerii, commander of the Capitol Military Forces and acting President of Panem.

/-\\

Soryn Lockwood stared out into the starry night, lying in the grass outside the Widow's Peak of District Twelve.

Ever since Soryn's Mom and Dad left to go help with the war effort, his Uncle Marty had stepped in to look after him. And since he did not enforce the house rules as heavily as his parents did, Soryn often stayed out past dark in the meadow looking at the stars, allowing his imagination to run loose, sometimes wondering what it would be like to travel beyond the planet he was currently bound to.

While there were plenty of places for to do this sort of thing, the meadow was a place of tranquility to escape the doom and gloom that permeated District Twelve. With the rebellion in full swing, Soryn stayed out even later than when the Capitol's Peacekeepers patrolled the district, but eventually he had to get home before his uncle came out to look for him.

Satisfied with his time in the meadow, Soryn headed back home. His uncle often punished him when he stayed out this late, but he was not extremely creative with his disciplinary actions.

At first, he would just send Soryn to his room, but became frustrated when he would escape the room with almost no effort. After that, he locked Soryn's window in a way that it could not be opened from the inside. Even then, he still had plenty of things to do in his room, things he kept hidden from his uncle extremely well.

When he came within view of his house, Soryn noticed his uncle was still awake. Taking a deep breath, he walked through the front door, bracing himself for whatever punishment his uncle could throw at him. He would probably lock him in his room until lunch the next day and then let him out to do chores. There could also be a meeting with the belt.

Soryn walked in the door, but instead of standing and staring at the door with his look of disapproval, Uncle Marty was rushing about the house, in his combat harness. Soryn stood at the doorway, wondering what was happening. Soryn had seen him do something similar to this before when the rebel forces did drills, but the look in Uncle Marty's eyes indicated something more than a field exercise.

After a while, Marty noticed Soryn. "Soryn, get your evac bag." Marty said with a tone that bordered on panic. Soryn hesitated for a moment, so Marty reinforced his order.

"Soryn, we have maybe two minutes before the Capitol arrives and I want you out of the combat zone as quickly as possible, so grab your bag and head to the safe house, NOW!"

Spurred by this revelation, Soryn ran to his room and picked up his bag from underneath his bed, and grabbed a picture of his family before heading back to the kitchen for whatever else his uncle had to say. As he walked down the hall, an explosion shook the ground. "They're ahead of schedule." Marty muttered to himself. "Let's go!" his uncle shouted as he got into the kitchen.

Uncle Marty grabbed Soryn's hand and headed to the door, which was opened with a swift kick. Marty shouldered his rifle, scanning the area for threats. When Marty was satisfied, he beckoned Soryn to follow.

As the two made their way down the street, a Capitol hovercraft began firing missiles into the neighborhood. While the hovercraft fired its salvo, Capitol troops began dropping down and began firing at the rebels who were coming out to oppose them. Marty aimed at the nearest enemy soldier and fired, nailing him right between the eyes. Marty fired two more shots, and two more enemy soldiers fell to the ground dead.

Soryn and Uncle Marty began weaving through the houses, passing by squads of rebels that were preparing for battle. Capitol soldiers continued to pour into the Widow's Peak, engaging the rebels. Initially, the combat seemed one-sided in the favor of the Capitol, but as more rebels came to meet the invaders, the fighting came to a standstill.

Rounding a corner, they nearly ran into a Capitol soldier. Marty reacted first, knocking the man's helmet off with a single punch. Stunned, the Capitol soldier tried to locate his attacker, throwing a series of wild punches in their general direction.

Marty intercepted one of the punches, grabbed the man's wrist, twisted it, threw him over his shoulder, and sending him to the ground, finishing him off by stomping on his windpipe. The scuffle drew the attention of two more soldiers who spotted Marty and began shooting down the road.

A squad of rebels arrived, drawing their attention. One of the soldiers went down in a hail of gunfire, his mangled body falling messily to the dirt. The other soldier dove out of the way and began fire shots from around his cover. The rebel squad split, with one half maintaining their position while the other moved up.

The Capitol soldier figured out what was happening and fired a grenade at the approaching squad, killing three of them and wounding two more. Marty shouldered his rifle and took aim.

While the other rebels were keeping the soldier pinned down, Marty lined up his sights on where he estimated the soldier had hidden himself behind cover. Pulling the trigger, he sent a round through the wall.

The rebel squad's leader signaled his men to stop firing. A moment later, the soldier's body slumped out from behind his cover, with a hole punched into where the bullet had passed through his shoulder and into his chest. The rebels went to tend to their comrades as Soryn and Marty continued to make their way to the safe house.

A squadron of hovercraft began a strafing run, chain-guns spewing out a hail of gunfire, tearing up houses and rebels alike. Marty kicked Soryn to the dirt and dived to the opposite direction. The hovercraft passed overhead, reducing houses to rubble. Soryn lifted himself up slowly, taking care to avoid gunfire, and went to check his uncle.

Marty slid up next to the nearest house, trying to remain steady as explosions shook the ground beneath them. It was not hard for Soryn to notice the blood pooling around his Uncle. Marty had taken a grazing shot when the hovercraft passed overhead during their strafing run, and while he was still alive, his hip had been blown apart.

Soryn crawled towards his uncle. From what he had seen from all of the patients his mom had tended to, his uncle was not likely to survive. Marty waved him back and pulled out his sidearm, continuing to fire down the street, providing suppressing fire for the other rebels who were still in the fight with a fire in his eyes. One shot caught a Capitol soldier in the chest, while another took one to the shoulder.

After minute, the gun slipped from Marty's hand. Soryn scrambled towards his uncle, reloaded the pistol, and handed it back to him. A small hint of a smile passed over his uncle's face before he went back to firing.

More rebels came out from behind Soryn and engaged the Capitol troops, quickly cleaning whittling them down and forcing them to retreat. Even though the rebels were pretty jubilant at their small victory, Soryn knew that something worse was just around the corner. Soryn looked back at his uncle.

Marty's body had gone limp, his eyes still open with an intense glare that he had when in the middle of combat. Soryn closed his eyes just like he had seen his Mom do when someone had died on her operation table, his hand quivering as adrenaline pumped through his veins.

While finding people who had dropped dead in the streets was not uncommon, he had never seen anyone in his family die. As tears began to reach Soryn's eyes, another explosion rocked the ground, followed by a wave of heat. The Capitol was torching the Widow's Peak.

Jumping to his feet, Soryn took one last look at his uncle before turning to run towards the safe house. Soryn leapt from side to side, dodging the flames that began to sweep through the neighborhood, keeping close to the ground to avoid the smoke that began to obscure his vision.

He was grateful that his uncle had taught him this route blindfolded, otherwise he would have been turned around and would have probably run straight into a fireball. The going was slow as Soryn navigated the burning neighborhood, when he began to think that he might have actually become lost, he spotted the safe house.

Calling upon his last reserves of strength, he began sprinting towards the safe house, until a screeching missile cut through the ground and exploded, knocking him on his back. Getting up to one knee and saw what remained of the safe house: a smoldering crater.

There was no screaming as the blaze consumed the ruins. Anyone who had been quick enough to get to the safe house had only locked themselves inside a deathtrap.

Soryn picked his family's picture back up and placed it in his pocket and slung his pack over his shoulder. With nowhere else to go, he began to look for a way out of the inferno, moving down the street and avoiding the toxic fumes while dodging the collapsing buildings.

Despite his best efforts, Soryn was still breathing in smoke, causing him to lose his pack when he stumbled forward. While he crawled through the dirt, coughing, he spotted the end of the inferno. Pushing himself beyond what his little body could normally handle, he ran towards the clearing. With each step, the smoke seemed to clear a little, and Soryn ran a little faster, still dodging the flames as they leapt out at him.

When he finally felt like he was almost to safety, an explosion knocked him to the ground. A lance of searing heat and pain made Soryn let out a scream as he rolled around on the ground to douse the flames. Squirming in agony, he pursed his lips to avoid alerting more of the remaining Capitol troops to his location.

With the dirt aggravating his wound, Soryn got up again to head to safety, which now seemed even farther than it was before. He could not muster the effort to run, so he walked, ignoring the searing pain at his back. With a blank expression on his face, Soryn stepped towards relief from the horrible nightmare he was in.

Stepping out of the blaze, he struggled to stay upright, taking in a breath of fresh, allowing his head to clear a little. He continued onward, walking in a trance, barely standing as fatigue gripped his small frame.

Soryn finally dropped down, clear of the inferno's path, and turned around, watching as the blaze consumed his neighborhood, with Capitol hovercraft raining down more firebombs. Despite his best efforts to hold them back, tears began streaming down Soryn's cheeks. Unable to keep staring into the hellish landscape, Soryn walked further into the woods before he stumbled into a creek and passed out.

Laying in a catatonic state, some Capitol soldiers came across the creek, sweeping the area for any rebels that may have escaped. One of them stumbled upon to Soryn's prone form and stooped down to check his vitals.

"We have a casualty here." the soldier called over the radio, then he turned to one his squadmates "Mytcell, get over here."

"Hey, Stavan, is he still breathing?" Mytcell asked, looking over Soryn's prone form. Soryn choked up a coughed and shifted his weight off of his injuries. Mytcell cursed with surprise "He's still alive!?"

Stavan called over the radio again "Scratch the last transmission. We're going to need a medic over here."

/-\\

Waking up, Soryn felt disoriented, his vision was blurred, and unfamiliar voices surrounded him. From what he could hear, he was in an infirmary. Suddenly, Soryn felt a prick on his skin, his sight came back, and there were Capitol soldiers and doctors standing over him.

He let out a doublet of punches at the nearest person, a peacekeeper, causing him to reel back.

"The little guy packs a punch." said the soldier, grasping his nose.

The doctor who had given Soryn the shot moved out of the way. Another doctor went to check on the soldier Soryn had punched, while the others restrained their patient.

The doctor plugged the device into a computer and Soryn's file came up, along with pictures of his Mom and Dad, whose pictures had the letters KIA over them. The doctor yelled at one of the soldiers and tapped on the screen, causing the images to disappear and were replaced by Soryn's medical data.

Soryn had once asked Uncle Marty what the acronym meant, and his uncle replied as easily as he could. KIA: someone had died fighting. Soryn fought back the tears, trying not to think about how they had met their end.

The doctor removed the bandage covering the burn on Soryn's back. A burning sensation as the bandage was removed came to his conscious mind, causing Soryn to wince. One of the nurses came up and replaced the bandage, a cool and soothing ointment spread over the afflicted area.

Some of the soldiers stood around chatting amongst each other. Another soldier came in, and by looking at him, it was raining outside. His compatriots seemed eager to hear what he had to say.

"Is there anything new?" one soldier asked, eagerly waiting for the response.

The messenger seemed annoyed at being effectively ambushed, but continued anyways "Most of the districts have been brought to heel, all we are dealing with now are minor holdouts. We also received word that District Two finally caved."

"Took long enough." another soldier said, with contempt in his voice.

"I'm surprised it came so easy." the soldier Soryn had punched said "They were putting up so much of a fight, I was expecting more to go down fighting"

"With District Thirteen a smoldering crater, we knew it was only a matter of time before the others fell back into line." the messenger said.

The other soldiers seemed to nod their heads in agreement.

"So how long will it be until the Peacekeepers are back on duty?"

"It is my understanding that they will be back in full force by the end of the week"

Soryn tuned out the rest of their conversation, nearly choking on the breath that was passing through his lungs.

After their defiant act against the Capitol, striking off the head and shaking free of the shackles they had placed, all the other districts had rallied behind Thirteen, and for most of the war, it seemed untouchable. Invincible.

The way the soldiers talked about it made it sound as if it was no more difficult than swatting an annoying fly, and as a result, the rest of the rebellion lost its drive and fell apart. And now all that the rebels had fought so hard to accomplish over the course of months was being undone in a matter of days.

As the doctor continued to look over him, Soryn glanced at the screen again. According to the data that was display, Soryn had two cracked ribs, second and third degree burns along his back, and cuts, scrapes, bruises, and other minor burns all over his body, along with bits of shrapnel from the safe house being destroyed in front of him.

The doctor was rambling about Soryn to the soldier he had punched. "Anyone else would have collapsed after enduring that much physical punishment and we have no idea as to what extent the emotional trauma goes."

One of the soldiers looked at the screen and then over the doctor's shoulder. "He's only eight years old?"

"He's a survivor." The doctor said as he stared into the screen.

A survivor. The very nature of District Twelve was survival. Twelve was not the strongest, most productive, or most populous district, but they were the hardened; tough as nails. The citizens of District Twelve lived the school of hard knocks every day. Death, pain, and suffering were commonplace, and only the toughest survived. But none of that would bring his parents back. Tears began to well up in Soryn's eyes as he silently wept.

The doctor prepared a syringe and injected it into Soryn's arm. He instinctively recoiled, not because he was afraid of needles, but rather because he did not trust the Capitol doctor.

"This is a sedative." The doctor placed a hand on Soryn's head as he drifted off into a deep sleep "You have quite a day ahead of you tomorrow."

Soryn tried to force himself to stay awake, but the sedative worked its way into his system and the voices fell silent and the world slowly blurred and faded into blackness.

/-\\

Soryn was running through a burning forest, dodging fireballs as he avoided tripping in the many holes that dotted the terrain. As he continued running, he noticed people, or ghostly apparitions; figures standing silent, some with their faces obscured by a fog. One was a tall boy, or maybe even a young man, tall and proud regardless. Another one of the figures was a young woman, maybe a teenager. The other notable figure was a young girl, probably only slightly older than him.

While Soryn could not guess who many of the phantoms were, he recognized some of the others: his mother and father, his uncle Marty, some of his neighbors, people who the fire that destroyed their homes around them, even while they were inside. Friends and family. All of them, gone.

Soryn finally made it to a clearing, and it began to rain. Stopping to look around, he saw all of the apparitions gathered. Some of them with anger in their eyes, while others had a look of sadness, but some of them had a different look on their face, one of anticipation.

"What were they expecting?" Soryn thought to himself. Why did it seem that they were looking to him? An older figure seemed to step forward. He seemed…familiar, but Soryn had never seen him before in his life. The figure gestured, as if telling him to wait.

The world seemed to shift, and the apparitions blew away with a gust of wind, and the ground cracked open beneath his feet, plunging him into the raging fires in the depths of the earth.

/-\\

Soryn woke up from his drug-induced nightmare to the sound of a nurse opening the blinds over the window. On a table to his right, there was a tray with what Soryn guessed was breakfast. The room Soryn was in seemed familiar, but he could not quite place it. The pain in the area he was burned had disappeared almost entirely.

The nurse turned back to Soryn and noticed he was awake.

"Good morning." the nurse said with a typical Capitol accent. "I hope you got plenty of rest, because you have a big day tomorrow." the nurse said as she moved the breakfast tray in front of Soryn

"I will let the doctor know you are awake, but in the meantime you can eat breakfast."

The nurse spun around towards the door and walked out with a spring in her step. Soryn inspected what was placed in front of him: scrambled eggs, bacon, a piece of toast, and a glass of orange juice. Soryn quickly attacked the bacon before moving on to the toast.

The doctor came in while he was sipping the orange juice.

"You have been recovering well." the doctor said cheerfully. "Since we were unable to find any other next of kin to take you in, we have arranged to have you placed in a community home."

He barely blinked his eyes in reaction to the news. The doctor did not seem to notice and continued.

"The head of the community home will be by tomorrow to pick you up. We will get you some clothes so you will be presentable when they come."

Soryn had seen the effects of community homes. Some of his friends had been sent to community homes and the results that soon followed were something Soryn did not want that to happen to himself.

As the day slowly passed, the frequency of the guards and doctors checking on him began to spread out. When the lights went out for the night, they had stopped checking almost entirely. He waited patiently until he was sure no one would catch him.

Once satisfied, Soryn eased himself out of the bed. Sneaking up to the window, Soryn checked for anything that would trigger an alarm when he opened it. Nothing. Compared to what his uncle would do to make sure he would stay in his room, they might as well have left the door open.

A gentle, cool night breeze came in as the window opened as he poked his head outside and noticed he was on the second floor. It would not be his most difficult climb, but since he was still recovering, he would have to take it easier than normal. Easing his way down, he dropped next to the brush that ran alongside the building, hidden by the foliage.

To get his bearing, Soryn crept through the brush until he came to a clearing. Floodlights bathed the open fields that he instantly recognized. The Capitol had used his school as a temporary hospital to process the wounded. Capitol soldiers patrolled the grounds, waiting for a reason to shoot.

The alarm sounded, sending the guards scurrying as they looked for Soryn. With his absence noted, Soryn stealthily vacated the premises before they brought out dogs.

While Soryn had a head start and knew the area better than his pursuers, with his injuries, that lead would disappear when they caught his trail. In the distance, Soryn could hear dogs barking, but the school was far behind.

As he continued onward, he came across a road. Noticing a convoy of vehicles coming, he immediately dropped to the ground, wincing as his ribs graced the ground. Looking as the cars passed, it was not hard to tell what they were carrying. Prisoners of war.

The men had defeated looks on their faces and by looking at them, they had obviously had been holding up for several days, before they were either captured or had surrendered. Just looking at them gave Soryn the feeling of rocks hitting the bottom of his stomach. The last of the rebels who had tried to keep fighting and failed, now being rounded up and carted off to the stocks, or worse, the Platform.

The last truck carried Peacekeepers guarding two female captives, one older, possibly in her forties, the other was likely still in her teens. Soryn briefly thought he recognized the younger captive, but the truck moved from view before he could discern her identity.

He stayed hidden in the grass until the last of the trucks had passed, and then he sprinted across the roadway.

Sneaking through the fields, Soryn traced his way back to the Widow's Peak, taking care to avoid alerting the Capitol soldiers of his presence. It was not long before the ground turned black from the flames. Smoke and ashes continued to rise, mixing with the growing rainclouds as they gathered overhead.

Dodging soldiers, Soryn maneuvered his way through the ashes of what had been his neighbors' homes. Even though the neighborhood was utterly unrecognizable, it was his turf, and he knew it well. After dodging guards along the way, Soryn came up to the ruins of his home, staring at the blackened structure. His entire childhood, now just a distant memory despite being a few feet in front of him.

Thunder snapped him back to his present situation. Soryn began poking around, looking for anything of value in his current situation. He made his way to where the master bedroom had been. He kicked at the various piles of ash, but not finding anything worthwhile. As he was about to leave, his foot caught something. Kneeling down, he examined the object.

It was a small, locked box that had endured the flames. Soryn pulled at the lid, which opened with little effort, as the lock had been destroyed in the fire. The contents, however, remained unharmed. There was a small photo album, with pictures of his family over the years. Another item was a locket that belonged to his mother. It was a gift from his father when they were married. The only times she would ever take it off was when she was working, and had most likely left it home so she would not lose it.

Soryn handled the locket gingerly as if it would shatter if he applied too much force. He opened it, revealing a picture of Soryn and his parents. Once more, tears streamed from Soryn's face.

The Capitol had destroyed his home, his family, and had tried their best to destroy him. The rebellion may have been defeated, but Soryn, and many other rebels still remained; defeated, but alive nonetheless. Their survival was an act of defiance.

Standing to his feet, he began looking for a weak point in the floor. The fires had erased all of the normal markers, but it was not long before Soryn found what he was looking for.

As Soryn pressed at specific points on what had once been tile, part of the floor gave way, dropping him into his father's storeroom, landing on an old mattress. Soryn grabbed a backpack and satchel and began loading them with various items that he would need for the foreseeable future: sock, gloves, a sleeping bag, water bottles and a water purifier to go with it. While he could not bring everything with him, Soryn picked the essentials and whatever else he could carry and hoisted himself out of the basement.

The scent of the air had changed, and the storm clouds loomed, accompanied by lightning and thunder. Soryn crept through the rubble, avoiding the Capitol troops. As he neared the edge of the neighborhood, two capitol hovercrafts arrived and began off-loading troops. Soryn tucked himself in a ditch at the edge of a foundation, looking for a way around this new obstacle.

As he was trying to work out a plan, rain began to fall. With no other choice, Soryn backtracked into the neighborhood and found a place to hide from the elements and the soldiers as the storm clouds released their contents upon the Earth.

From the shelter, there was a good view on the landscape. While some of the soldiers had gone to find shelter, most of them were still out on patrol, waiting for potential prey to reveal themselves.

With no end to the rain in sight, Soryn settled down for the night and went to sleep.

/-\\

Soryn woke with a start to the sounds of gunfire being exchanged. A pale light crept through the holes in the wall, and sound of rainfall hitting the roof, providing an eerie sense of tranquility in spite of the raging battle outside. He looked out to where the Capitol soldiers had landed during the night.

The soldiers had fallen back to take cover behind what remained of some houses. The rebels were firing from the cover of the trees, and judging by the shouting, the firefight was not going anywhere very fast.

Soryn gathered his things and sprinted from cover to cover. It was still raining lightly, and mud, ash, and water splashed with each footstep. A hovercraft came over head, only to be intercepted by a doublet of rocket-propelled grenades.

The hovercraft lost altitude, recovering before it hit the ground. Two more rockets flew towards the hovercraft, with one missing its mark entirely. The other hit the tail, sending the hovercraft spinning.

The hovercraft skidded across the field, gouging the Earth, taking out several trees in the process. Soryn used the moment of distraction to escape the warzone, running as fast as he could while the soldiers were occupied with the rebels. As the distance between Soryn and the firefight grew, the more the sound of bullets whizzing past his head diminished.

When Soryn had reached the safety of the treeline, he looked back towards the firefight. The Capitol soldiers were falling back while the rebels continued to hold the high ground. As the Capitol soldiers disappeared from view, Soryn heard the familiar sound of hover engines filled the air.

Two more hovercrafts came into view, strafing the rebels with firebombs, silencing their gunfire. Soryn continued running without another glance, hoping that the soldiers did not see him.

As Soryn hiked through the woods, he began thinking what to do in order to survive. The first thing to come to mind was shelter. Having the proper equipment and skills would mean nothing if there was not a warm, dry place to come back to every night. He could likely find places either within, or not very far from the main settlement of District Twelve, which would put him in close proximity with basic conveniences.

The next issue was food. There was not much in the way of edible plant-life within the district itself, and hunting had been illegal for as long as he could remember. Stealing was an option, but it would not take long for the Peacekeepers to crack down and punish him before taking him to a community home.

There were places to hide within the district, but there would be plenty of others who would utilize this option. After pondering all of his options, Soryn decided to head back to the district and hoped that the Peacekeepers had more important things to worry about than a lone child wandering around without supervision.

Trudging across the rain-soaked terrain, the rainclouds thinned out a little, allowing air to warm up. Wanting to avoid any confrontation with the Peacekeepers, Soryn snuck into the city through one of the passages he had discovered.

Most of the city was quieter than usual, but there were still civilians wandering around, probably helping to locate corpses and generally clean up the mess that the Capitol had made. Soryn walked out into the open, acting as inconspicuous as possible as he looked for a place to stay for the night.

Other kids looked at him from their windows before nervous mothers pulled them away and closed the curtains, but apart from some brief glances from some workers, no one paid Soryn any attention. After wandering for a few hours, Soryn finally found an acceptable place to bed down for the night where he would not likely be disturbed.

/-\\

Sitting in his hideout, Soryn stared into the night sky, looking out on the war-torn cityscape. Everyone else had gone to bed, and Peacekeepers patrolled the streets. The glow from still-burning-fires gave the sky an eerie glow, obscuring some of the stars that were so easy to see before.

Finally, Soryn could no longer keep his eyes open and drifted off into a fitful sleep, plagued by nightmares, watching loved ones and strangers alike perish in flames.

Before the break of dawn, Soryn was awoken to the sound of light footfalls. Someone else was sneaking around the back alleys of District Twelve. Gathering his things, he readied for a quick departure. Shadows crept along the wall, voices whispered amongst each other, some with fear. Soryn hid himself from view as the voice drew closer.

"How long until the Peacekeepers find us?" one voice asked.

"Too soon." another replied

"We saw the little kid run in here. He can't stay hidden for long." a third one said, most likely referring to Soryn.

"He can't have much." the second one said, obviously not interested in his group's endeavor.

"Quiet!" hissed a fourth voice, this one belonging to a female.

The figures crept into view. Fierce looking teenagers looking for prey in effort to survive. The first one was a muscular, dark-haired individual who looked like he had spent time in both the stocks, as well as the coal mines and looked like he was the leader, carried a cruel looking blade.

The second was a scrawny boy with glasses and light brown hair. The third looked like an adult, but did not carry himself like the ones who had participated in the fighting, and so was likely under sixteen. His black hair and olive skin marked him as someone from the Seam.

The three fanned out, looking for prey to pounce upon. Once certain that the area was clear, the leader beckoned whoever was behind him to come forward. Two more people brought up the rear, a teenage girl with disheveled brown hair and a red headed boy who looked like he was not much older than Soryn. The group gathered back together underneath Soryn's hiding place.

"He's not here." the one with glasses said.

"Not on ground level." the third clarified "but there looks to be some good places to hide up there." he finished, pointing in the general direction of Soryn's hideout.

"Scamp!" the leader quietly called out "could you go up and check?"

The boy with red hair nodded in acknowledgement and immediately went to climbing the wall as Soryn had done the night before. He reached Soryn's hideout, only to find it empty and swept clean. The boy leaned back "He was here recently." he called down below to his companions.

Soryn observed the scene from an adjacent rooftop. The boy scrambled onto the ledge, looking for clues as to where Soryn had gone. As he watched the boy clamber down, Soryn presumed that they had seen him with his pack and guessed he had food. He would have to be more cautious in the future.

All that had to be done in the meantime was wait until they left, but these would not be the only ones out looking for means to survive, and there would likely be more encounters in the future.

As the group left the alley, Soryn quietly scrambled down and ran in the opposite direction.