[center][img]https://fontmeme.com/permalink/200722/05a2a459e5d97da500e3cea5f5195669.png[/img] [sub][color=#82e1e9][ Streets of Alexandria ] [ [url=https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kNXdASvhC8E]Nyan's Theme[/url] ][/color][/sub][/center][hr] [indent][color=silver]The streets were said to be unforgiving. The streets were the repository for the trash that was cast out by society, become the last refuge of the downtrodden and the damned. Oddly enough, the young kit had always found that the people living on the streets were often far more welcoming than those who held themselves as society's [i]betters[/i]. Those were unmistakable fixtures in any city anywhere. People passing by, wearing clothes that cost more than any one of these beggars might see in a year, or even a lifetime, with noses upturned and their gazes diverted. What an eye sore, that people might have such poor taste as to be poor in their presence. To be completely honest, the young Miqo'te wasn't even certain from just what city he'd even arrived. He'd hopped from one merchant caravan to another on the road, passing through what had seemed like more of a trading post than an actual town, and then arrived at the gates only to discover that this was the storied Kingdom of Alexandria. The white haired kit was resplendent in the finest cloak no money could buy -- stitched together from stained and discarded sackcloth. It was not much to look at. Neither, for that matter, was he. But it suited him well enough. Seated an upended, broken pull-cart, the boy's tunic was similarly the mark of a pauper, being a patch-work garment. The black tips of his ears were not the only dark marks, as soot and dirt clearly betrayed the fact that the youth had been traveling for a bit and not seen a bath in as many days. If not weeks. As it had happened, the kit had stumbled upon a boy perhaps two summers younger than he, who had belonged to a family that was turned out on the street. While they hadn't had enough porridge for themselves, let alone to share, but they had broken bread with him. It was stale, with mold that had to be scraped off, but they'd shown him a baker in town who could be relied on to make available what he didn't sell. The kit had an eye on several carts that seemed to be getting loaded. There were likely to be one or more caravans that would be departing for destinations unknown. The boy didn't know that he planned to stay in Alexandria long enough to appreciate the baker's stale gift to the city's poor, but it was still nice to know where there existed the option of a free meal. Even if one had to scrape the mold off it beforehand. That was certainly preferable to rummaging a meal from out of the rubbish piles, which the destitute were apt to due when all pride had left and there remained no alternative. But, life was all about capitalizing on the alternatives. And with a city this size, there were apt to be merchants of all manner. Who likely had things of value, which could get misplaced or otherwise become both lost and found. Yes, maybe before he had to leave the city, he'd have the opportunity to make a slight withdrawal. After all, where he was going, it never hurt to have some capital. ...even if he had no idea just where he might be going. Details. He'd figure it out when he got there. Wherever. Maybe even home to Bellas, though that seemed a more fleeting possibility the more he hopped from caravan to caravan.[/color][/indent]