[center][img] http://i.imgur.com/8zbODpt.png[/img]

[b]Fritz’s Room, Dirt Town Orphanage[/b][/center]

Nim stood off against one of the walls of the room, watching carefully from the shadows. She wasn’t the type that liked to be right up with the crowds of other people. As much as she would have liked to see Fritz before he passed, or even as he did, it hadn’t been worth pushing through the other children. Now that they were wailing? Definitely not. 

It wasn’t that Nim wasn’t sad. Tears ran down her cheeks, her emotions clearly readable for once. She was still only eleven and unlike some of the older kids didn’t need to keep up appearances and didn’t care that anyone would see her crying (though she was hidden well enough). She wasn’t about to break her normal quietness by wailing, however. That just seemed futile. Fritz was dead and it wasn’t going to bring him back. 

She wasn’t looking forward to being on the streets again. It was undoubtedly what would end up happening – as young as she may be she knew the gangs wouldn’t respect this area as an orphanage anymore. The streets would probably be safer than just staying here. 

Nim noticed one of the older orphans speaking to Mary, Zahn if she recalled correctly, and strained to hear what he was saying over the wailing of the young children. When she couldn’t catch more than a word she shrugged, giving up. It was time to leave the room anyway, she was beginning to feel just a little bit on edge with so many people around. 

Keeping to the edge of the room Nim made it to the door and slipped out, still staying in the shadows. Outside she found three more of the older children and moved slightly closer to them – to listen to what they were saying, trying to stay unnoticed. It wasn’t that she was feeling particularly nosy but if they managed to organise themselves, or even any of the others, she’d tag along. 

As much as she may not love other people’s company Nim knew it would be better for her to stick with others.