The details of your meeting were lost to the dust of time, but you were grateful for it nonetheless. He was a whirlwind of laughter and mischief, a bright spark in the grim reality of your lives. His older sister, initially wary, had come to see you as no threat, allowing him to seek your company. You lived in makeshift tents nearby, your paths converging often in the barren landscape. Each encounter was met with a joyous embrace, his tiny arms wrapping around you with a fierce, innocent love.

Poor kid.

He carried the weight of the world on his small shoulders, a burden he understood too well. The cruelty of the Katicans, their callous disregard for those like him, had already etched itself upon his young heart. The loss of his parents left him and his sister adrift, alone in a world that seemed to offer them no solace. When the shadows of sadness descended upon him, he'd seek comfort in your embrace or his sister's, whichever was closer.

And in that moment, it was me he turned to. He sat nestled in my lap, his small frame trembling with unspoken grief. You stroked his hair, whispering reassurances that felt empty even to your own ears. "Everything will be fine," you murmured, knowing that it was a lie, a desperate attempt to shield him from the harsh truths that would inevitably engulf him.