Azden’s pinkish red hair was brushed out of his face as he exhaled. The morning markets were always enjoyable to walk through, watching merchants sell produce and other such things.

Out of the corner of his eye, a scruffy looking man, who looked to be the same age as Azden, had snatched a loaf of bread from a merchant without them noticing. “Why are you taking from that nice merchant?” He took the shoulder of the other boy, looking down upon them with intrigue, not anger.