He didn't see the point of throwing stones at cats. They always came back again eventually if you did. He'd explained this to the other children, but they just ignored him, and carried on doing it. They were stupid; they clearly didn't know what else to do. So he'd show them. He borrowed some petrol (it doesn't count as stealing if you mean to give it back, but can't) and poured it over a cat. The other children thought that funny, the cat covered in sticky oil. But they screamed when he set it alight. He didn't understand why; he was only getting rid of the cat.
He'd never understand the other children. One time, he'd told them where he lived. They wouldn't play with him anymore. Why ever not? What was so terrible about growing up in a guild house? Alright, it was the assassins' guild, but it wasn't like he was going to kill any of them; he wouldn't get paid for it, after all. The assassins had taught him well.