"Extra Extra! Hundreds Killed in Manhattan Yesterday!"

Ravenna's ears perked at the headline. That seemed like an interesting article to read, it was surprising, however, that she hadn't heard about that incident from any other newspaper. She threw that thought off with one about how The World must be a more reliable newspaper.

"How much for a paper lad?"

"It be a penny a pape ma'am" The boy had a coughing fit after he answered her question which tugged at the strings on Ravenna's heart.

The newsboy could not be older than 10, and had large pitiful brown eyes to match his scraggily brown hair that was mostly hidden by a hat. She glanced over his clothes and shook her head.

"I would like one paper please." She handed the lad a nickel and smiled at the boy's reaction.

"Thanks miss, your kindness is much appreciated."

Ravenna gave a smile to the lad and started walking off in the direction of Central Park, feeling rather pleased with herself for her generous nature. What she did not see when her back was turned, was the little boy smiling and giving a thumbs up sign to a nearby newsboy who had a red bandana tied around his neck.

The next place she stopped was a nearby fruit stand where she bought the first thing that appeared appetizing to her, a ripe juicy pear. She couldn't remember the last time she had eaten a pear. Mrs. Smith seemed determined to buy every other type of fruit besides pears; when she returned from her parents' Ravenna would have to fix that error.

With both of her recent purchases in hand, Ravenna strolled to the nearest available bench in Central Park and lowered herself onto it. Taking a bite out of the pear, she began to peruse the headlines looking for the article about the "Hundreds Killed in Manhattan Yesterday." After about an hour of searching and being distracted by other articles, Ravenna assumed that the article the newsboy had been yelling about was the one detailing an exterminator killing a record amount of cockroaches in an apartment in the lower side of Manhattan.

"That little cheat, why I aught to tell his mother that he's selling newspapers under false pretenses. What do I wager he does not really have a cold either? I gave that lad a nickel! Why, he's as bad as a gypsy!"

A rosy hue began to creep upon her cheeks as she realized that in her anger she had spoken aloud and had caused several heads to turn. Well that's simply great. My first few hours by myself and I'm already giving people a reason to wag their loose tongues. She sighed inwardly. She needed to keep her anger closer to herself and not allow it to surface every time it desired to.

It simply made her blood boil though. She hated gypsies with a passion; she also feared gypsies deep down inside, which is where her hatred sprung from, but being human she did not realize that factor until later. As far as she was concerned Gypsies were the reason her family was no longer around. Gypsies were the reason she could not remember her last name, know from whom she received her caramel gaze, or any of her other physical attributes. She would not know if she received her stubborn nature from her father, or her desire to help those in need from her mother. All of her losses were due to the gypsies and she despised them for it.

She also hated anything or anyone that reminded her of a gypsy. In Ravenna's mind, a gypsy was someone who lied and stole to get what they wanted, and that was exactly what the little newsboy had done. She didn't stop to think that the lad was merely trying to keep himself from starving, or that the nickel she gave him might help keep a roof over his family's head. All that she cared about was that she had been lied to; in a rather strange sense she felt violated and as if a trust had been broken between herself and the newsboy.

She finished her pear and made a rather exasperated sound as she realized that her venting to herself about the newsboy had taken her longer than she had expected it to. The city was just reaching twilight and she wanted to make it back to her house before it was dark. Gypsies came out at dark, and she wanted to avoid them at all costs.

Tossing both the core of the pear and newspaper into the nearest waste she headed down the street towards her house. Along the way she heard what sounded like a kitten crying in the alley up ahead. Always one to bring home strays, she ventured into the darkening area and began to search for the animal.

"Here kitty kitty kitty. Here kitty."

Another pitiful meow escaped from a nearby crate. Peeking inside, Ravenna spotted a black and white kitten that appeared to be around 6 weeks old. By the fuss the animal was making one could only assume it had not been fed in a rather long time. Reaching her slender hands inside of the crate she bent to scoop up the little bundle of fur only to receive a swift swipe of claws against the knuckle of her thumb. She let out a soft cry of shock while pulling back, her golden hues wide in amazement.

"Why you little ferocious thing you! Here I am trying to help and all that you can do is attack me. If I had half a brain I would leave you here."

The kitten seemed to understand Ravenna's words and let out another heart wrenching cry as if to protest being left in the crate for another chilling night.

"I know I should let you suffer for your actions, but I just can't seem to do so." She let out a soft chuckle. "You are going to have me wrapped around your tiny little paw, you know that?"

The kitten's green gaze simply stared into her own golden one, seemingly giving permission to Ravenna to pick her up, and that is exactly what she did. Reaching her hands once more into the crate she gently picked up the kitten, who did not give a single sign of apprehension at Ravenna's actions.

Slowly stroking the downy fur of the forehead, she crooned into the kitten's ear.

"That's right, you don't have to be so ferocious; I'm not going to hurt you. You see? There's nothing to worry about."

At that moment she realized what she would call her new pet.

"I think I'll name you that…Ferocious. What do you think?"

"I think that's a splendid name. Though I must admit no one has ever called me that before. They've called me plenty of other things, but never quite ferocious. Though who knows, perhaps they're being nice."

Ravenna whirled around to face the raspy masculine voice who had addressed her, and in that process upset Ferocious, who in turn leaped from her hands and scampered into the darkness. She was about to make a rather surly retort to the man who had just caused her to loose a new pet when she registered who was in front of her.

The man had a rather lanky and wiry build, as well as soulless eyes. Those eyes appeared to be a giant pupil, no color whatsoever. His leering expression exposed his yellowed and crooked teeth, revolting Ravenna to her core. She walked backwards in an attempt to get away from the man, only to find that she was stopped by a wall. The man chuckled as he slowly approached her like a tiger stalking its prey.

"What's the matter Sweetheart? Afraid I'll live up to my new name?"

Ravenna was so frightened that she found she could not move any of her limbs; so she did the only thing she could think of: spit at the man.

He reached up, wiped away the saliva, and stared at the fluid for a while before shifting his onyx gaze to her and slowly smiling.

"Now that was not a smart thing to do, not a smart thing at all." His slow speech belied the swiftness with which he grabbed her shoulders and tried to press his mouth against hers. Her reaction was more instinctual that planned as she slammed her booted foot onto his and caused him to rear back in pain.

"Why you!" He never finished his exclamation, but instead slapped her across the face with as much force as he could that her head knocked against the brick wall rendering her unconscious.

The man's slow smile appeared upon his face again. He laid the woman's crumpled form flat on the ground and ripped her white shirt down the front. Just as he was about to do the same thing with the woman's skirt he received a swift blow to his side.

A groan of protest and surprise escaped his mouth, followed by a rather guttural sound of anger. Standing as swiftly as he could the man turned to his attacker, and received a right hook right between his left eye and nose. He stumbled backwards before regaining his footing and landing a sold jab of his own on his attacker's jaw. The head of the curly haired man in front of him flew back a few inches as it received the blow, but only seemed to fuel his resolve. The next thing the man knew was he was falling backwards from what appeared to have been a well placed uppercut, and then utter blackness.

Rubbing his upper jaw of his left side, the curly haired man winced. This had to be the last time he played the "hero." Being beaten up was simply not worth it. He let out a soft chuckle as he knew what he was telling himself was a lie. He would be out here the next day saving some helpless whelp even if he died trying. That was simply how his mother had raised him.

"O Rom O Nevo, remember what you have learned from the paramitsha. If you are stronger you help those who are weaker. Even gaje believe in that, they also have stories of men helping the weak. Remember the stories I told you about Arthur and the Round Table?"

"Yes Daj, I remember."

Rubbing his jaw once more he winced. Yes he remembered all right, and he would have the bruise tomorrow to show for it.

Just as that thought crossed his mind a soft meow could be heard from where the woman whom he had rescued and forgotten about was laying. Snapping out of his reverie he glanced over to the woman to discover that a tiny black and white kitten was rubbing itself against the still form. He was soon at the woman's side and knelt down to pick up the kitten. He pulled his hand back as soon as the animal hissed in protest.

"All right already. I can see, you don't want to be picked up."

Shaking his head he then reached for the woman and was nearly attacked again by the fuzzy ball of fur.

"What do you want? I need to get her out of here before he wakes up cat! Sheesh!"

For the second time that night, as if the animal seemed to understand what humans said to her, and the kitten did not protest when the curly haired one reached down and lifted the feather light, still form into his arms. He started blushing as he noticed that while the woman was not necessarily naked, she was rather under clothed. Pulling together as much of the shirt as he could he lifted his gaze away from her chest and slowly began to head towards the only place he could think of; the lodging house. Kloppman would have a better idea of what to do than he would.

The kitten let out a meow in protest of being left alone and the rescuer turned around slightly.

"What do you want? You nearly cut my hand off the last time I tried to pick you up."

Another meow was his only reply.

"Sheesh. You must be a girl cat. Only women are that finicky!"

This time the cat's meow was more of a warning.

"All right all right. I take it back. Come here, you are going to have to travel to the lodging house in my pocket, your legs are simply too small to keep up. And don't you protest to that because you know I'm right."

This time the kitten did not say anything at all, she simply strolled over to the man and turned her emerald gaze up to his chocolate one and waited patiently to be picked up.

Sighing, the rescuer gently placed the woman back onto the ground, settled the animal in his pocket, picked the woman back up and headed towards the only place he knew in order to escape the cold of the February air.