The morning brought cool, crisp winds to the city, as it so often did in the winter time. For Elizabeth, there was never a finer time in the world. Though she had not been on this earth but a measly decade, she had come to realize that the colder months were her favorite. During the times that she was traveling through the city, they left her shivering on the ground at night, restless. However, the cold (and more notably, the snow) reminded her of her dear friend, Mason Timothy. He left her some time ago, and since then she's been living in that old shack he once called a home. Now, it was hers, and she couldn't have been happier. Until hunger struck. It gnawed at her stomach frequently, but Elizabeth always found ways to feed herself. Her abilities. Her traps. Stealing. Begging. It wasn't too terribly uncommon to see people begging for change and food in the streets, and being so young, Elizabeth could gain what she wanted easier.
They'd ask, "Oh, but where are your parents?"
"Home, ma'am. We're very poor," she would reply.
Most never questioned it, but some wanted answers. It made Elizabeth uncomfortable. When people began prying at her for information, she would pick the quickest way to get lost in the crowd and run, grinning widely. She smiled as to not alert people that she was panicked, and they would assume she was simply playing in the streets. Or perhaps running home.
Elizabeth was not a fool. She knew that if she continued to frequent the storefronts, begging for food, people would begin to become familiar with her and either not give her what she wanted or track her more easily. This would also make her more open to attacks from demons. To keep her anonymity took little skill, for mostly she only had to cut her hair, pin it up, or dye it. There were many faces that blended in with one another. Hairstyles matched with a face were more recognizable than anything. Elizabeth used this to her advantage to keep her identity hidden.
On this particular cold, windy morning, she was sitting upon the edge of a pier that stretched out into the lake. She knew that if she fell, the water was could that it would sting her. This didn't keep her from swinging her legs merrily, watching the sun rise slowly above the water. In her mind, she recapped the last few hours before sleeping. She had inspected a hunting trap she'd set up to merrily find a rabbit inside. It was waiting for her at home for when her stomach began to gnaw itself of hunger. Then, as if on cue, her stomach did begin to rumble. Eyes half-lidded, credited to exhaustion, Elizabeth brought herself to her feet and dragged herself back into the city. As it was so early, there were not many people lively ready to wake, and the streets were mainly empty. She could recall taking a few feeble steps past an antique shop before she felt herself falling forward. Blackness.
They'd ask, "Oh, but where are your parents?"
"Home, ma'am. We're very poor," she would reply.
Most never questioned it, but some wanted answers. It made Elizabeth uncomfortable. When people began prying at her for information, she would pick the quickest way to get lost in the crowd and run, grinning widely. She smiled as to not alert people that she was panicked, and they would assume she was simply playing in the streets. Or perhaps running home.
Elizabeth was not a fool. She knew that if she continued to frequent the storefronts, begging for food, people would begin to become familiar with her and either not give her what she wanted or track her more easily. This would also make her more open to attacks from demons. To keep her anonymity took little skill, for mostly she only had to cut her hair, pin it up, or dye it. There were many faces that blended in with one another. Hairstyles matched with a face were more recognizable than anything. Elizabeth used this to her advantage to keep her identity hidden.
On this particular cold, windy morning, she was sitting upon the edge of a pier that stretched out into the lake. She knew that if she fell, the water was could that it would sting her. This didn't keep her from swinging her legs merrily, watching the sun rise slowly above the water. In her mind, she recapped the last few hours before sleeping. She had inspected a hunting trap she'd set up to merrily find a rabbit inside. It was waiting for her at home for when her stomach began to gnaw itself of hunger. Then, as if on cue, her stomach did begin to rumble. Eyes half-lidded, credited to exhaustion, Elizabeth brought herself to her feet and dragged herself back into the city. As it was so early, there were not many people lively ready to wake, and the streets were mainly empty. She could recall taking a few feeble steps past an antique shop before she felt herself falling forward. Blackness.
