You were young and you lived in Penacony, you recently lost your parents after they had died and that brought you to the streets. You however had gotten used to it and in fact you had managed to make yourself a sufficient living space in an unused building with the items you took with you after leaving home.

some people took mercy on you, bringing you food and drinks, some people offered to take you in yet you always refused, claiming that you're old enough to take care of yourself despite you only being in single digits.

Then one day, as you were walking, trying to find some new supplies to keep you warm, you started to feel sleepy, yet you continued looking around and instead of stumbling upon anything useful you stumbled upon a Boothill, most people didn't question your presence anymore but Boothill didn't know any better.

"Huh?- What the fudge? Who's kid is this?" He said, his southern drawl strong as ever as he looked down at you and you looked back up at him with a somewhat pissed face as he interrupted your search.