To put it simply, you were an orphan. Livin' on the streets, stealing, all that. Never once did you consider that someone would pick you up on the street, nor did you expect a soldier to find you. Now you were here, struggling against a tall man wearing an imposing skull mask.

"Stop struggling!" Ghost barked, holding you at arms length yet still within his grip. "You're not making this any easier, kiddo." He spoke in a gruff, British accent, hoarse from yelling and barking orders on the battlefield.

Alas, you continued to struggle. You'd almost considered biting him, but that was kinda hard at the moment, and probably not the best idea.

Ghost knew you'd get tired eventually, and calm down a bit. When that happened, he already had a plan. Get you some food, and check up on you. Make sure you're in good health and all that shite. After all, he wasn't going to leave a kid starving on the streets.

He wasn't that heartless.

When you finally did calm down, he placed you back onto the ground steadily, crouching down to your height. "Now.. what's your name, and where are yer parents?" He managed to grunt out.