Akolan was a prison.
But that wasn't to say there were no thieves, of course.
She was Akolan's most wanted, the bane of the Longtreaders. But contrary to being careful, or annoyed, she enjoyed it, sometimes allowing herself to be spotted on purpose.
Ali. There were wanted posters in every district. She snickered as she passed by one of them on the street, tearing it from the wall as she neared it. She didn't really care how many there were, but the Wrongtreaders were the real villains. She was a lowly street–rat. Sure, she could get a prey mark and live in fear of those discusting murderers, but if she couldn't leave, she'd settle for making as much trouble for them as she possibly could. It was market day in district six, a special privilege, only once every four months when the outwallers could eat fresh fruit, depending on how much they could afford. She was planning to hit the biggest cart, let the centuries chase her for a bit, and then double back and leave the fruit on the doorsteps of the outwallers who couldn't afford it. No one would be able to accuse them of stealing, because they would all see her. And though this was possibly her biggest heist yet, she wasn't nervous. In fact, she was practically bouncing up and down with excitement. Not a good look for a proffessional thief. You've gotta stay one jump ahead of them, Ali. She told herself this before every heist, then went over the worst case scenarios in her head. There had never actually been a worst case scenario, though she'd come near to it a couple times. The ratty backpack in the corner of her rooftop moved, and an actual rat crawled out.
"You'd better pay good this time, kid," The nasally little voice complained as the rat headed for the edge of the roof. "I just spent a day and a half scouting your stupid fruit cart."
"Sure, Roscuro." Ali rooted around in a corner for a moment, and tossed a wheel of cheese at the retreating figure. "Every bit demanded, plus a little bonus. Happy now?" The rat caught the wheel in his stubby little arms, and rolled it into the gutter. He nodded. "Now get off my roof," She scolded. "I've got a robbery to prepare for."
The market was bustling with rabbits, all bearing a red preymark. As much as Ali hated the stupid things, she nicked one off a clothesline before she left anyway, promising herself she'd return it after. The backpack was empty, waiting to be filled with stolen fruit. She smiled thinking of the stories her father used to tell her about Annerian Ridgerunners, the fruit–obbsessors. The happy memory dissolved quickly into sadness, however. She shook herself, and walked on, head bent low as she passed by a couple of meandering centuries. When she reached the unbelievably large cart, she waited until the vendor was looking away, then inconspicuously swept half a dozen oranges into the open mouth of her pack. The grapefruits went next, then the plums, and finally, the apples. Just as she was slipping the last one into her bulging bag, the rabbit vendor on the other side of the cart spotted her.
"Hey!" He growled, clearly annoyed. "You got the money to pay for those?"
Here was the moment she'd been anticipating. She smiled sweetly, then shook her head, turned around, and tore off in the other direction. Behind her, she heard the angry shouts of the vendor, and the clamor of the gathering soldiers, who had clearly been waiting for something to happen. She spun around, and called out to the massing soldiers, tossing the apple she'd been holding in the air.
"Looking for this, Wrongtreaders?" The name jibe was all the agitated soldiers needed. They sprinted after her, some attempting to cut her off from ahead, some chasing after her directly. She skidded into a turn and barreled down another street, startling two bewildered soldiers as she shot straight between them. When she reached the end of the roadway, however, four more were waiting for her. She cursed, and then swarmed up the drainpipe of the nearest building, with what seemed to be all of Akolan's regiment on her heels. She hopped to the next rooftop, the frontmost soldiers following with slight hesitation. Ali almost wanted to laugh. Amateurs. Then she came to the end of the line of houses. The leap to the next street was at least six feet, if not more than that. The soldiers were only three rooftops away now, malicious glee written all over their faces. She had to jump. There was no other choice. She backed all the way to the edge of the rooftop, and broke into a run.
Close.
Closer.
Closest.
She lept, twisting in the air, heading straight for the roof across the street. She wasn't going to make it. She was falling, falling fast. But then– The roof was rushing up to meet her, and her feet met the stone with a beautiful thump. She waved to the cursing, shouting, angry soldiers on the other side of the street, and jumped to the next roof, confidence mounting. She went on like this for five more streets before shimmying down another drainpipe, and disappearing into the labyrinth of back alleyways and dead ends.
The next morning, the only trace left of the most wanted thief in Akolan was fruit mysteriously appearing on multiple doorsteps, a soldier with a broken leg, and one very fat rat. The doe on the rooftop shook her head, smiled slyly, and began to plot her next big heist.