It was a beautiful spring day, with trees blossoming and the temeprature was perfect: no rain and not too cold, but not too warm, neither. It was a great day to enjoy. And on that beautiful day, in an alley of the ever so busy city, there was a little girl, lying curled up on the street. Her body was covered in cuts and bruises, and she had her eyes shut strongly. She had seen enough people passing already, but she didn't know of they had noticed her. And if they did, they simply didn't pay any attention to her. So why not close her eyes? Maybe if she just closed her eyes and thought of happy things, the pain would go away. It didn't work, but the little child had no idea of what else she could do. All she knew, was that every breath became a bigger stuggle to survive and that the only thing she could feel was pain. Bit maybe it was good like this? Mommy had told her that humans didn't like them, and hurt them because of it. Mommy also said that when they died, it hurt, but after the pain was over, they would be with the gods. Maybe she would see mommy again too when she was with the gods?

At first sight, the girl looked pretty normal. She had ginger, slightly curling. Her eyes had a bright, light blue colour, and freckles at her nose. Even in this form, she looked a little bit like a fox. She was wearing a dress of a blue colour that matched her eyes, although it was worn and damaged, not only because of how old it was, but also due to the recent attack she had endured. She also had something she was holding in her hand tightly, a simple necklace made out of a ribbon, and a dimple coin charm hanging at it, the coin having the image of a leviathan on it, one of the gods her kind worshipped.

A man sits on a black, designer chair in a second-story hallway. His short hair and trimmed goatee are grey, matching his eyes. His shirt is pale-pink, loose-fitting, and silk. His pants are the same, but brown. Perfect for a warm, sporting day. A thin mithril chain around his neck attaches to a silver pendent: a single bar, the sides slightly curved inward, thicker at the top and bottom. A recent gift, it replaced the leather and wood one he made when he was little. He still keeps that one on his nightstand. His golden wedding band, now too small for his finger, is also on the chain.

He holds the pendant in his hands. His fingertips trace the engraving on the back. One faith. One truth. One God. The words ingrained in his mind since childhood. His face, normally smooth and young in contrast with his hair, is creased with a mix of worry, fear, and anger.

A faint sobbing comes from the nearby door. He gets up to knock once again. "Honey?" The crying finally stops. A lock clicks.The door opens to reveal a woman, red hair, wearing a dark blue sundress, makeup ruined from crying. He knew before, but looking into her brown eyes now confirms everything.

He is unable to find any words, and they stand there for a long moment. She breaks the silence with "I'm sorry." She quickly closes and locks the door.

Devastated, he stands there. When he doesn't hear the crying again, he looks through the keyhole. Exhausted, she had passed out on the bed. He wanted nothing more than to lay down next to her and hold her. He could easily get the key and do just that, but it felt like a breach of trust. Devastation turns to anxiousness. Tucking his pendant into his shirt, he prepares to leave the house.

A half hour later, he sits down on a barstool downtown. The innkeeper, not expecting someone else before noon on a weekday, takes a moment to give him any attention. "Poitr! I haven't seen you since..." He cuts himself off, seeing Poitr's face. He starts filling a pint with mead. "Another miscarriage?"

"Always the tactful one" Poitr replies, gladly accepting the mead. He had changed into jeans and a white undershirt as to not stand out. He downs the first drink and passes the barkeep his keys.

An hour later, he stumbles out of the bar. This weather is too beautiful for the mood he's in. A few blocks in the wrong direction, he passes an alleyway. Pausing and going back, he notices a heap of red hair. "Honey?" Instantly he sobers up - partially - and rushes over.

The little girl heard something, causing her to open her eyes to see what was happening. When she did, she noticed a man heading towards her, causing her to crawl up intoa sitting position and cringe before he was even close to her at all. All her life long, humans had meant nothing good. Werewolves and elves were good, but this man was no elf, and how could she tell the difference between humans and werewolves when it was no full moon? Regardless, the child was frightened. She knew that a moment ago, she thought that dying would be good, but she changed her mind. She didn't want to hurt amymore, she just wanted no more pain, and that the pain she was having now would stop.

"Please don't hurt me." She said, looking up to the man in front of her. It was all she could really do in this situation, or at least so she thought. She wasn't even sure if she could stand up, let alone run away. She didn't know how to fight, neither, so even if the man was unarmed, she would stand no chance if the man did decide to harm her. All she could really do, was hope that the man would be merciful, maybe a werewolf instead of a human. Werewolves had good noses, so they could smell the differences between species. If he was a werewolf, than he would help her, right?

The man hesitates as the girl - no, child - cowers away from him. Far too young to be his wife, the only similarity the color of their hair. Questions flood his mind. Who is she? Is she homeless? Where is her family? His mind a fog, he can't even begin to piece together the answers. "Please don't hurt me." The words, and the emotions behind them, take a moment to comprehend. She is terrified.

On realizing this, Poitr turns his full attention to the child. For the first time he notices her injuries, and how much blood there is. Was she abandoned? Attacked? The questions continued to hurt his head. The range of emotions he experienced over the last few hours didn't help. He turns to face one end of the alley and yells, "Anyone? Help?"

He crouches in front of the child, bringing him to her level. As he does, the pendant is barely visible, pressed to the inside of his white shirt. "It's okay, I won't hurt you." He manages to talk without slurring his words. "I'll call an ambulance, and you'll be alright." He fumbles, reaching for the phone in his pocket.

The child looked up to the man, who said that he wasn't going to hurt her, but would call an ambulance for her instead. That meant she would get to see a doctor, and a doctor could help her, do something about the pain. She just had to make sure he wouldn't notice that she was a shapshifter, in case the doctor was a human.

Het grip on the necklace she was holding loosened, causing it to slip out of her hand and fall onto the ground with a clattering noise, the side of the coin with the leviathan on it showing up. It originally was silver, with the image of the leviathan being made out of blue gems, but the blood that had dripped onto the coin made it hard to tell the actual colorisation on it.

Looking at the necklace, she quickly picked it up again and hoped the man hadn't seen the image on the coin. If he was a werewolf, it would make no difference, but if he was human, than the necklace was an easy to tell that she was a shapshifter, as they were the only species in this area who worshipped these gods.

Poitr thinks the girl looks slightly less terrified of him. He checks his phone. 4 missed calls. 12 new text messages. Most are probably for work. He's tempted to see if any are from his wife. He dismisses the notification and opens the dialer. 1, 1, 2, Send. Still crouching in front of her, he wants to comfort her, but he doesn't know what else to do or say. He's reminded of standing in front of his wife not too long ago.

"112 what is your emergency?" The words snap him back.

"Um, yes I need an ambulance. I found a girl. she's hurt, beat-up, bleeding. I-"

"What is your location?"

How far did I walk? "Past the Old Toad." He composes his thoughts. "West of the Old Toad Inn, off of King Street. I don't know the name of the street."

"What species is she?"

"Human." Pretty sure she's human, anyways.

"Please stay on the line."

The girl looked at the man and listened while he was at the phone. Apperently he really thought she was human, which meant that he hadn't noticed the image on her necklace. That was good, now all she had to do was keep the necklace hidden and make sure not to change forms until she had gotten help. That wasn't hard.

Still, if any of the staff members would be a werewolf, than it would all be no use in the end, and her fate would lie in their hands. In that situation, all she could do was be hopeful and wish that they wouldn't tell anyone. Otherwise they'd kill her right away...

"My name is Poitr, what's yours?" Finding something to say makes him feel better. He barely expects any response; the child looks to be in shock.

"An ambulance is on the way. Can you tell me anything else about your location? A cross-street or business?"

Poitr describes what he can see from the alley, not wanting to leave the girl. The operator relays this to the ambulance.

"How did she get hurt? Are there any threats still there?"

"I don't know, but there's no one else here."

"Do you have any first aid training?"

"A long time ago. No."

"Is she alert? Breathing?"

"Yes. I'm not sure how alert, she hasn't said anything."

"But she is conscious?"

"Yes."

"Okay. Don't move her. Ask her some questions - where she is, what day it is, what her name is, how old she is, If she's alright with receiving first aid, then get back to me."

He thinks that she can hear the operator, so he turns to the girl and returns to his earlier question.

"Hey. What's your name?"

The little girl listened to the man. He told her his name, Poitr, and asked for hers, before he continued talking on the phone, after which he asked for her name again.

"My name is Ella." The girl said to him.

"That's a pretty name. Ella, do you know what day it is?" He asked, at which Ella nodded.

"Today is tuesday." She answered. At tuesday she always went looking for berries with the other ones of her age from the tribe, under the supervision of an elder, of course.

"How old are you?" He asked afterwards.

"I'm four." She answered the questions, even if she didn't understand why he asked all these things.

"Okay, Ella, are you okay with getting first aid?" He asked last, at which the girl nodded.

Poitr relays the information to the operator, who instructs him to try to stop any bleeding, remain on the line, and again not to move the child. He tries to set the phone to speaker mode, but fails and just sets down the phone.

"Okay Ella, are you bleeding badly? Where does it hurt?"

He can't tell if she even is still bleeding. There is a lot of dirt and dried blood on top of her wounds. He has a single light-green handkerchief which he takes out of his pocket.

From the ground the faint voice of the operator can be heard. The ambulance is almost there. The operator asks a few more questions and tries to get Poitr's attention, but he has his own question in mind for Ella.

"What did this to you?"

"I don't know.." Ella answered when he asked her if she was still bleeding somewhere. All she knew was that it hurt, a lot, and she just wanted the pain to stop. It was a very simple wish, wasn't it?

When he asked what attacked her, the child hesitated. She knew who attacked her, but could she tell him? If she told him that she was attacked by humans, because she was a shapeshifter, than would he still help her? She had no idea, so she could only hope.

"Promise you won't be mad if I tell you."

"Mad?" Poitr couldn't imagine being mad at the helpless child. "Of course I won't be mad." He notices fresh blood from a gash on Ella's arm and, thankful he can do something for her, gently ties the handkerchief around her wound. Ella winces. The piece of fabric is quickly soaked through, and does almost nothing to help her condition. Any sense of accomplishment Poitr had is quickly replaced by helplessness of his own. She's in so much pain. I just want her to be safe.

The sound of sirens is distant, but approaching fast. A second set of sirens is further away, the already-harsh tones from the two vehicles clashing.

He notices she is still hesitant. "I promise, nothing you say will make me mad."

O.o

The man promised her not to get mad, and she supposed that would be the best she got. She would just have to find out if he really wouldn't get mad after he told her. After all, he probably didn't expect such a thing.

"Humans did this, they're mad because I'm a shapeshifter." She said softly, as if she was afraid that somebody would hear, even if they were the only two around.

Like she tried to prove that she wasn't lying, she showed him the necklace with the coin on it, which had the image of the leviathan on it. It originally belonged to her father, but she had gotten it after he had been hunted down and killed.

Poitr is stunned. Adrenaline had helped to hold off his emotions from the day and but this news seems to unleash them all, and more. All he can do is hold his hands to his head; that is, until he sees the girl is holding something out to him. He inspects it, and finds a medallion with a figure on it. He is not quite sure what it is, but he recognizes it as a symbol of the heretics.

Poitr isn't given much time to think. The first set of sirens is approaching fast, about to turn the corner.

Feeling sick to his stomach, he does something he might regret. He takes off his own necklace and places it around Ella's neck. He then takes the necklace from her hand and rips the ribbon that it was made out of.

"This pendant is yours. You ripped this necklace off of one of your attackers. You were attacked by shapesifters."

Ella wanted to ask him to give her back the necklace, but he ripped the ribbon and gave her back the coin and put a pendant around her neck instead. She was upset about it; the necklace had belonged to her mother, and it was the only thing she had left of her.

He told what she was supposed to say, telling her that she should act like she was a human attacked by shapeshifters, but it was the exact opposite of that. She didn't like the idea of acting like her kind was bad, but nodded. If it was a way for her to get help, than what choice did she have?

She heard the ambulances approaching fast, and soon enough they arrived on the spot, a doctor jumping out of the car and rushing forward to help.

Poitr backed away, allowing the doctor to help Ella, picking his phone up from the ground. He hung up on the operator. His mind was conflicted. His whole life, he grew up learning that shapeshifters were evil. How could Ella be evil? The only ones evil here were the ones who hurt the child, leaving her for dead.

More medical workers arrived, bringing a rolling stretcher with them. Carefully, they moved Ella onto the stretcher. Poitr walks with the stretcher, planning to ride with them.

Behind the ambulances a police car showed up. It didn't bear the local police insignia though. Instead, a single stripe, thicker at the top and bottom, was painted on both sides, the hood, and trunk of the vehicle. The two men who exited were wearing suits. Why is the church police here?

One was carrying a notepad. He waved Poitr over. "So you found the girl?" "Yea." The other man was about to ask Poitr a question too when Poitr interrupted: "Can you question me on the way to the hospital?" The two men discussed amongst themselves for a few seconds before the men agree. One stays behind to investigate the scene, since the local cops will be there momentarilly. Poitr rides in the passenger seat. They are behind the ambulance for only a moment. Poitr sees the doctors frantically working before the ambulance speeds away.

Ella didn't dare try to struggle or cringe, not even if she could actually do so. She didn't want to cause any suspicion or whatsoever, so she did and said as little as possible. With so many humans around, that was the best option she had to not give away what she really was.

She didn't like pretending to be someone she was not, and hoped that this all would be over soon. She needed help, she knew, but how could she pretend that her kind was evil the whole time? They were not bad, just different from humans in more than just one way. That didn't make then evil, did it?

The detective asked Poitr generic questions. Poitr gave his account of what happened. "Yes, I am Poitr Wellsworth. Yes, the bartender at the Old Toad will vouch for my whereabouts. Yes, I am still drunk. No, I didn't see the attack." This continued for a few minutes until the detective realized Poitr didn't actually have any useful information. After a short silence Poitr asks the question that was on his mind. "Why did they send the church police?" He hadn't said anything to the operator about heathens being involved.

He was worried that someone else - maybe even the humans that assaulted Ella - had notified them of a shapeshifter. He was also kicking himself for leaving his pendant with the girl. If the girl was found out, it might trace back to him. "There were reports of shapeshifters in the area." The detective didn't explain, which Poitr took as a small revenge by the detective for not having any useful information. "Were they the same ones who attacked the girl?" "Could be." Poitr waited for the detective to continue again, getting slightly frustrated.

The detective pulled into the hospital parking lot. He got out and walked to the hospital with Poitr. "You aren't going back to the scene?" "No, I'll question the girl once she wakes up.