Dragoncrest Cliffs Witness Marks

A sea salted boy. Mangled and torn. His breath made Thibault flinch, both the rasp of it and the raking of this boy- he could feel.

He felt.

Inching closer, on his nose came suddenly an awful chill. The sternness in his own ragged voice fell curious, innocent in only a young boys way. "What happened to you?" he spoke to himself, but he looked him up and down inquisitively. Careful.

"Are you thirsty?" his brows lifted, a serious question, though genuine, sprouted from a strong soul behind a lackluster voice. 

This boy was an outsider.

They did not like outsider boys. But he was so frail.