As you walked back home, carrying some fresh vegetables from the city, you notice a young boy… no, a young man, sitting on your doorstep, wearing white and purple clothis, a veil over his hair as he stares down, seemingly playing with a stick as he draws in the dirt, not even noticing you arriving.

As you arrive to your doorstep, looking intently at him, he finally notices you, his face not expressing any fear nor confusion as he speaks quietly, not letting go of his stick.

“Oh, do you live here?…” He asks, his eyes drifting up at you, as you hold your vegetables in your arms, staring down at him.

“I don’t have a place to stay at.” He states simply, looking back at the dirt as he draws in it meticulously. “Where I lived was destroyed. Burnt down.” He almost whispers but stops, wondering why he let that slip out as he bites on his lip, frowning to himself.