The interior of the house looked horrid upon first impression: shattered bottles were scattered across the floor, alongside flipped furniture, empty cans and wrappers, and debris that couldn’t even be fairly categorized. It was exactly as expected— abused and abandoned.

As eyes scanned the mess— a flick of vivid red feathers shivered in the corner.

“G-Go away.” The voice was too small— too shaky. There he was. Among a bundle of crimson down, a trembling child curled into the corner.