He ran. He was scared, hungry and thirsty, but that was nothing new, neither was the pain he was in. Running with broken limbs was only slightly more painful than doing his chores with them. Usually by this time he'd be in his cupboard under the stairs, but instead he was halfway to the nearest town, limping as he ran. His Uncle had lost his job and, of course, this was his fault. He stopped for a few minutes to take an inventory of his injuries. From the pain in several areas he could guess how badly he was hurt, he had gotten good at that. From how it hurt his left leg was broken in two places, his right arm in three, his left wrist was broken as well as several toes on both feet, all the fingers in his left hand along with several in his right and lastly, in broken bones at least, six ribs, with three more cracked and the rest bruised. He sighed, speaking of bruises, the left side of his face was throbbing, his back he knew was a bloody mess of cut welt and bruises and he had several cuts on his arms, legs and chest in the shape of words. The young boy sighed. He didn't know how he was going to survive, but he had a better chance of surviving on the streets than with his Uncle. The young boy looked around and sighed again before continuing down the road, hiding at every car. It was going to be a long night.
A few miles down the road was a rather busy town. In this town resided a rather lonely little girl. Ashira Black was nine years old and had been living in an old warehouse on the edge of town since she had run away from her abusive parents at five, but not before losing the sight in her right eye thanks to a heated silver crescent-moon-shaped wall ornament. Because the silver had melted slightly it left a silver sheen on the horrible scar. It had also somehow leaked into the iris of her eye and turned it silver. The moon had earned her the name "Wolf" within the gang. You see, Ashira was part of a street gang who called themselves the "Beast Pack". All the members had animal nicknames. So far there were twenty-five members, all aged between four and eighteen. The youngest, twins, were new, they had been just three months with the Pack.
People might wonder how Ashira could be lonely, but none in the Pack could deal with her dark, snappy and sarcastic nature, not even the twins. Everybody in the pack was a run-away or had been abandoned, but none were abused to the extent she was. Some were neglected, verbally abused or even slapped around a bit, but none were physically abused as much as she was. So Ashira was left to herself.
Just like every other day, those that could went out to look for food and money. Ashira got up at dawn and left, as usually did. Today however, she saw something she didn't expect. Ashira was on the other side of town in less than an hour, thanks to practise. This was the area designated to her. She was spying on a rich-looking man when she heard a noise coming from behind some trashcans behind her. She flipped open a small pocket-knife she had stolen and went to look. Her breath caught in her throat at what she saw. A little boy, no more than four by his looks, was lying in a pool of blood, dressed in shredded clothes. She knew she couldn't leave the kid there so she picked him up and put him gently over her shoulder before rushing down the back alleys to the warehouse.
She arrived home in a little over an hour, hindered slightly by her light burden. She shouted for Rabbit as she came in. Rabbit was seventeen and she looked after everyone who couldn't go out for food and people who were sick. As she entered the room, Rabbit's hand flew to her mouth before beckoning Ashira to set the boy down on their "sick bed". She checked for broken bones and found plenty. What was strange was the boy made no sound in sleep, bar that of his breathing. Even in sleep that much pain would cause one or two moans and groans at least. Rabbit was shocked when they took off the outer layers of his clothes to reveal not only fresh cuts and bruises, but also dozens upon dozens of old scars. She looked faintly sick for a moment before she steeled herself and ordered others in the warehouse to get her bandages, splints, towels and water. She wrapped the young boy tightly and made him as comfortable as she could, cleaning his wounds thoroughly and splinting broken bones. Ashira stared at the young boy, smoothing his hair down. Rabbit stared at her and her movements with an unreadable expression on her face. Ashira's hand stilled and she turned and walked out, pausing and looking back at the door before continuing. Rabbit smiled softly and said quietly to the boy, "You may just be the one to get our Wolf to open up. Miracles have happened before." With that she ushered the younger children to lunch.
Hihi people, I've had this idea in my head for an age and I thought that writing this would help dispel some of the writer's block from my other story. So… review if you want, I'd appreciate it if you did, even if it's a flame, but make it constructive if you do say it stinks please. So… Kk.