She kept walking through the freezing sludge, the wind biting through her thin rags. She passed a narrow, dimly lit alleyway and paused. Her stomach gave a violent lurch as the faint smell of roasted meat and cheap tobacco drifted out.
She took two steps back, retreating from the main street, and stared deep into the alley at the four men sitting on overturned crates around a small trash fire, smoking and eating.
"Sir... Do you have any food, or money? Even if it's only one copper coin," she begged, staring at them, her voice barely a croak over the crackling fire.
The four men stopped talking. They looked at one another, their faces hardened by the harsh reality of the First Realm's slums.
One of them, a heavily scarred, muscular man, waved his hand dismissively at her, not even bothering to make eye contact.
"Get out of here brat! We don't have anything for you!" he snapped, his voice rough like gravel.
