Prompt: that we should voyage far
It was around noon when they came for him. There was six, and all were much more heavily built that George was. When they approached, George shrunk slightly and turned his back, but his hand went straight to his knife. He knew it would be silly to enter into a fight so outnumbered, but the cold blade and its feeling of strength gave him confidence.
"Hey, you!" one called out. George turned to face the boy, his eyes spending extra time on the thick stick that he held. George slid his own knife out, ensuring that it was seen by all.
They laughed, a deep throaty sound. "We heard 'bout ye," another joined in, "Ye's the one that's been tryin' to hang 'round them big ones."
"Like ye'd ever belong with them," a third added. This fellow had a goofy smile across his face and was clearly enjoying the entertainment. "How old are ye? Seven? We's the ones that're gonna be in charge next, not ye, scrawny."
"Why don't we teach 'im a lesson, Silias?" The other boys jeered, encouraging the leader.
"Ye're not suppos'd to tip 'im off, remem'r? It's more fun when they's don't know what's comm'in." Silias cocked his head and examined George. "Not that it won't be any fun yet. Les, ye grab 'is arms. I'll do the rest."
George looked at the two boys, indecision flooding his mind. He detested even the thought of running like a scared child, but he understood when he was outmatched. As the boy Les came forward, a foolish grin across his face, George decided to put his pride away and flee. He spun around and began to sprint down the nearest alleyway. Laughter erupted from the boys. "We have a chase, eh?" one of them said.
The boys looked at their leader, waiting for permission to hunt the prey. "We should make sure that our littl' friend doesn' get lost in the city," he taunted, his voice loud enough that it echoed down the alleyway and into George's ears. The jeer was followed by snickers and then the pounding of footsteps.
George did not stop to look back at his pursuers, yet he ran faster. He sprinted through the maze that was the Lower City, past everything that he regarded as home. After nearly losing himself in the dark before, he had mapped the entire city in his mind. He ran from the boys for some time, leading a path through crowds, across bridges and into dark alleyways. Their bodies, while tough from fighting, were clumsy when running and George was able to lose them quickly amongst the throes of people.
Smirking as he walked home, George knew that regardless of what they had said, he belonged in the Lower City.