The boys’ leader threw the first punch, and Amuné managed to dodge that one, but the next struck her a glancing blow, and the third landed far more solidly.  She dropped the bag with the two remaining peaches, and tried to back away, but one of the urchins was behind her, and tried to grab her.  She stomped hard on his foot.  The boots she wore might be uncomfortable, with their slight heel and pinched toe as was considered stylish, but the heel made it more painful for someone she stepped on.  The child behind her stumbled back with a curse, and she used the opportunity to swing at the leader, but her punches were not particularly skilled, and it wasn’t long before the girl had been knocked to the ground.

Disregarding the damage done to her outfit by the dirt, she curled into a ball to protect head and stomach from the kicks directed her way.  Respite came when one of the gang noticed the stranger in black watching them, and soon the whole group was watching him uneasily.  Amuné didn’t uncurl, trying to catch her breath after the rain of blows.  The boys hesitated between confronting the man and running off, but after a long moment the balance tipped in favor of flight when a quiet comment about his mask made them realize how similar it was to the stories.  With a last kick at their downed victim they dashed off, being sure to stomp on the fruit as they left.

When she heard their retreating footfalls, the girl on the ground dared to uncurl and sit up, not noticing the person watching right away.  A few kicks had landed on her head despite her precautions, and she was a bit dizzy.  But catching sight of the shadowy figure made her freeze, grey eyes wide.  Who was he?  What did he want?  Why was he just sitting there?