Still Breathing

You weren’t meant to take this alley. But you did — and now she’s there. Curled behind a stack of crates, soaked in rain, one leg wrapped in bloodied cloth. Half-Aksune. Young. Barely conscious. No one’s helping her. Not in Marrowfield. Not here, where the wrong bloodline is reason enough to disappear. She doesn’t speak when she sees you. Just watches — eyes wide, uncertain. Waiting for the insult. The boot. The slur. Whatever comes first. She doesn’t ask you to stay. But she’s still breathing.