Story
Created | Updated Jan 10, 2004
The fact that she normally was didn't seem to make a difference.
Clutching the stolen bundle to her chest, Maryn rounded a street corner, her bare feet skidding on the debris ignored by the rubbish collectors. Leaning against the wall, she placed a hand on her heaving chest, trying to calm down. She held the silver picture frame out to her to get a good look, Maryn always stole sentimental things. Maybe it was to keep up her reputation as the only girl within the Garel.
Running dirty fingers through her auburn hair, Maryn inspected the cut on her finger, cursing her clumsiness. That speck of blood had set the Policemages on her. The others were never going to let her forget this.
"I don't care what they think anyway." Maryn muttered, defiantly. Although she did really. The Garel was the only place she could ever even consider calling home, for all it meant that she was the only girl.