It was next to the butcher’s stall that he caught him, nabbing the scraps that no man would truly want. The finer hide, the inside wall of a pig, intestines unused. Along with a bundled pick of bones stashed away in a tattered satchel loosely hung over his shoulder. Where blood would saturate the bottom , plummeting the site more grim to the ignorant. Bare feet rummaging through the debris. A dirty lil thing, with barely enough clothes sticking to his emaciated body. He had to be no older than five or six.
When Grayson first approached the boy, he took off abruptly. The result of one of the more wilder goose chases he had succumbed to in a long while. It awoke a instinct in him he wasn’t entirely familiar with and when given a taste, often feared -- more primal than he would have liked to admit when concerning the pursuit. What was frightening him the most was how he enjoyed it. It ignited an exhilarating flood from his gut.The need for the chase, the hunger and thrill behind it. The adrenaline seemed to have heightened his sensory whether that was the boy’s intention or not.
Throughout, it didn’t seem like he was afraid of the new blood, who in the youth’s eyes had been more clumsy than a six month old pup. It wasn’t until later that it was beginning to dawn on him that he was being played with. The lad was intentionally trying to drive his wolf side. A five year old .. guiding him.
“ I know you .. “ Came perfect English for a child. The claim, gave his position, whilst the boy leaping down from the shredded awning pitched for a fruit stand . Stared the adult over under scrutinizing detail. “ You probably don remember me .. .your scent, it’s one I will never forget -- we played together once, don’ you remember ? You gave me presence when all others shunned me. Under the light of a full moon, please tell me you remember ? Do I not have a recognizable scent ? “ He went to sniff himself .
“ I was younger then and feared I’ll never find you again. “ An odd smile clashed boyish features, exposing those dimples with a wide birth of an inclusive excitement.
Grayson upheld that look of bafflement , brows knitted in disparity. The loss for words when it mattered most. He struggled often, when concerning the nightly activity of his second nature. “ I.... “ was all that pulsed from those lips, staggered to even formulate sound. Whether good or negative , both equally suffered his judgement and illusionary grasp of the humanity he religiously clung to.
The response he would get, delved the hopeful surge of familiarity, a seeded ambition for family. He was alone and he had been tired from the strangling loneliness. He half leapt at the exiled Knight , wrapping arms around what limbs he could muster at their differences in height. “ I’m so glad the Knights have not gotten to you. . . “
Now rolled the pain of guilt constricting his chest. An arm, weightlessly collapsed on the boy, urging him closer upon the embrace. A comforting display he rarely gave and not just to anyone. What he done next,perhaps even surprised himself.
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It had been several hours later since their reunion, night had befell the streets of London . When he guided the boy by the hand up the crumbling steps of the hideaway, he carefully cracked the door open for the two of them to enter unannounced. Yet it would be the youth’s shrill excitement that would undoubtedly give them away. “ So you lived only blocks away from me all this time ! How come I never see you ? “ A half tilted head, with insanely curious hues peered up at him. The resembling innocence of a child far beyond curious actually roused a smile from the new blood. “ Answers in do time, first -- allow me to acquire a full meal for the two of us, hmn ? “
