Why are your hands always this cold?

It was a windy afternoon, clouds kept rolling in from the northwest. The days were unsure and the people were on egde, hungry, feisty, angry. Volatair had a lot of customers these days, some got their nose broken from looking at the neughtbours corn weird, others fought over a lamb that accidently walked between the fence. Those days make him worry about Sam. He always gets into fights, even in this cold weather. One day he was laying hours outsife before someone found him unconcious. He's the type to take everything for a joke.. until its not. Volatairs legs couldnt keep still, running arround the room, sorting books, counting medicine. Where was he? What kind of stuff has he gotten himself into.. Worse than that is, he havent shown up once today.

"Enough is enough", Volatair grabbed his cloak. He needs to find him, even if it gets his numbers down a little. His dad has to understand, he's also his best fighter. He will loose money too. Volatair rationalized his decision with that, he wasn't sure what to feel.

Hours went by, the streets empty, his worries grew with evry second he didnt find him. It's below freezing since two hours. Volatair was running down every street of this damn city, his feets hurt and he was breathing heavily, the icy wind wasn't helping him. "Maybe he's at the orphranage, maybe he's with Mic now", Michael was the first he went to, he helped searcing for Sam.

A faint voice caught his ear. It was a whimmer, so soft and quite he alsmost didn't hear it.
He tried calling "SAM?", desperation in his voice. Another whimmer from arround the corner. Volatair quickly finds his way arround, there he was, lying on the ground, half beaten up. "SAM!" He got down and observed his wounds, some hefty hits he got, the cut in Sams lip was the worst "will it heal together properly?", Worried, Volatair checked for Sams breathing, it was faint but at least recognizable. Sam opened his eyes slowly, looking into Volatairs worried face. He searched for Vols hand, "Why are your hands always this cold?" he chuckled. Vol was caught off guard, Sams fingers slowl, very carefully interlaced with his. Volatair rested his other hand on Sams face. He was so worried for him.

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