Inside the tavern, near the door, sits a child. He is dirty and too thin. He asks passersby for food and water and the passersby’s either don’t hear him or don’t care. The boy hums quietly until the effort leads him to cough and stares off into the distance. Edgard lets out a long breath.

No, he tells himself sternly. don’t do it. Not again. He glances at the child. The child’s eyes shift to him.

Edgard curses and stomps over to the child. He’s not going to talk to him. He’s not going to say anything. Edgard glances around and doesn’t see anyone he recognizes. He pulls half the coins from his pocket and shoves them at the boy. The boy, not expecting this amount, immediately drops all the coins to the ground. The sound of coin on stone rings through the air like bells. Edgard flushes with anger.

“Mind your fingers!” he snarls at the boy and flies to the back of the tavern in an effort to not be seen. He goes to the end of the bar farthest from the door.

“Give me whatever’s cheapest.” He snaps.