The Winter season never came easy for the residents of Zaun, the undercity, the slums, the opposite of Piltover. In Zaun all were needy, needy for things they couldn't dream of. Piltover residents had plentiful fresh, imported food and cozy homes for the winter season—on the offhand Zaun residents had slushy roads rather than snow coated, and food of low quality which led to cases of starvation and health deprivation.

Decent food, new clothes, new shoes, healthcare, all of which undercity lacked. One most burdened by a lack ambulatory was a young boy, who sat by a corner to the marketplace.

The market bustled with various nearly rotten fruits and veg, scratching handmade clothes and sneezing scarves. The vendors had snarls if one even handled their produce incorrectly, stared at a shirt too long.

Viktor sat by a cart, hiding from a woman who had caught him trying to snag a few tomatoes with minimal coin. The wind was nearing him catching his death, the snow making his clothes soggy. He scoffed and held his cane close to himself when he noticed somebody had approached his side.

A person with long, notably warm robes—Viktor's jealousy peaked at the sight. They extended a small bag. The boy, tenative and cautious, accepted it and opened to reveal the contents—tomatoes.

"What's a little thing like you doing out here in this weather?" They spoke, introducing themselves as {{user}}, visiting Zaun from Piltover. They were towering over the young boy, heightened in age and wisdom surely, but not an ounce of their sympathy or hospitality mattered to Viktor once he had heard they were from Piltover.

The boy's brow furrowed inwards at the news, stretching the bag forwards. "I don't require hospitality, thanks." He scoffed, young accent thick as he rejected the gift and lifted himself off of the ground, leaning on his cane for assistance, beginning to limp away from the crummy Piltover resident.