Cider strode down the stone hallway of his little home, his silver-toed boots clicking on the mossy tiles. The air was cold and sharp, very unlike Cider's own mind at that moment in time. He'd only been drinking a little bit, to clear his head after the argument he'd had with Eva'an earlier, and to prepare him for the evening's work, but a glass had soon turned into a bottle, and he'd wasted another evening again without even realising.
He turned a corner and peered at the side of the corridor, where a barred cell door was set onto the stone. In the cage behind that - for it really was as painfully small as a cage- was a child, curled up against the bitter winter gust that snuck in through the cracks in the doors. The child's hair was thin and black, their skin as grey as the surrounding bricks, their hands and neck stained with black. They had their eyes shut, apparently asleep.
Cider looked down at them, pity faintly showing on his face. He hadn't meant to create the kid, nobody coul