Ambrose
“Cat shit…” he muttered as he crossed the street and into an alleyway. His bladder felt like a illwilled melon and he could not get his pants down quick enough. Groaning he closed his eyes and listened to the sound of the stream hitting the cobbled ground. Somewhere nearby someone sniggered. A morose glare over one shoulder made the onlooker think better of it.
Scowling he tucked himself back in his pants with numb fingers. It was early winter, the ice had not yet settled and the streets of the harbor district was covered in mist. Everything from the air he breathed to the scarf around his neck felt damp and disgusting. It was on days like this he wondered why he had not retired to a town further inland. The royal capital of Lotherdam was many things and during the winter months, none of them pleasant, he decided as he made his way back towards the office.”
