What Happened To Me? (wip)
Short story on how Garrett received the scars on his body.
It's been a long day.
A long... long day.
Garrett had been alone for over a year now, but days like these were hard to manage all by himself. Some days he wondered why his parents kicked him out and some days I wished he could run back to his hateful society... but alas, this pain was better then being back in a place he was not wanted. Garrett tried not to remember the past but these present days without money to fuel his weak body felt like torture. Torture that he would not have to suffer with if it wasn't for his affiliation with ice magic. It was his cruel fate as a fucked up Doggoon.
But he continued on his way anyway.
Today he went to a guild to look for a bounty, it was late winter and last night he had stayed out in the cold with a fire that would not light due to damp wood. He was thankful to be in somewhere warm this morning, but the looks he got from the members were... guarded and hostile. Despite the place looking friendly and welcome with bright open rooms, beautiful hand craved furniture and walls covered in stained glass windows, they did not have any time for seventeen year old, homeless non-member. Garrett was used to this type of treatment, he just hoped and prayed they would give him a quest to get enough gold for a place to stay and a warm fire to cook with.
He was lucky if they didn't just kick him out.
"Whatdo'ya want, kid?", the man who spoke up was gruff and old. He must have been the guild master. Garrett coughed a little, still adjusting from the cold air outside,
"Just a quest to get me a room at the-"
"Listen, we don't havany time for a dead-beat teen. Go back to ya parents." The man was strict and interrupted him... did he sound that weak? Did he look like a kid? Others around them started to laugh as they always had, giggling and whistling at him as if he was just an object. Garrett just stood, tense and aware of his surroundings, hoping they wouldn't kick him out like the last guild did.
He gaped his mouth for a single moment, facing up but then closing it again; there was no use trying to explain his situation, not like they cared to hear it.
"May... I stay long enough to warm up...?" He did sound weak, like a kicked puppy. This was humiliating, having an affiliation with ice and still needing enough heat to survive the winter.
"You may. Then leave, we won't be takn' any runaways here." Oh, if only he knew. With a short nod and a heavy swallow, Garrett went to the fire and shed his wet gear and clothing and waiting for the warmth to get back into his system again.
Was he shivering this much before...?