The sound of someone running..Breathing harsh in the winter cold.
His ragged grey and colourless cloack waving in the air sundely there was a harsh sound as a choThe sound of someone running..Breathing harsh in the winter cold.
Wagons and cariages
not stopping to see the young boy who ranned over the street almost not knowing.
His ragged grey and colourless cloack waving in the air sundely there was a harsh sound as a coach came to a harsh stop.
A young boy about fourteen- or -fithteen years old climbed out of the cariage his green emerald eyes blazing of anger his face -usaly cute- was as black as his charcoal colourd hair.
Evryone pittied the boy even the cariagedriver's heart bled for the young beggar of a boy who tried to come straight up but can't, sundely blood had begun to drip of the boy...
The the fourteen- or -fithteen years old boy sprang forward, before the boy could hit his head against the dusty road.
His a moment forgotten as he stared in shock at his bloody hands his angriness forgotten for good.
(Hey, Author I know I'm poor and stuff but why did you have to go and make my death so dramatical?!
Who said you died?
Huh?!
Wait and see...)
*****
It's was almost magical that the boy could have recover in a week from his broken rib, wich was impossibel but almost magical at the same time.
The bad news, was that the boy can't remember why he ranned so wildley.
Evryone was the suprised when the first time they was astonished at how the boy looked: His skin as white as as snow, his eyelids portrayed by long and dark eyelashes, his lips as red as blood itself and his long waist colourd where that of a camel.
Evryone, including the young boy who saved him, where without breath as they stared down at the young boy.
He almost looked like a little angel sleeping, unaware of the eyes staring down at him.
When he awoke evryone thought his eyes are going to be dark, but the where wrong for his eyes looked like the color of a fox: Bit of brown, orange and a eensie bitsie yellow to.
They found out the boy's name is: Rick Phillip, a boy who travells around a lot, they where suspisius of him first because a boy wouldn't travel alone, wouldn't he?
Rick Phillip couldn't say much because that's all he could remember.
And that made evryone ask who he realy was: A friend or foe?
As days turn in to weeks evryone realised Rick was diffrent, but how?
It was raining night in the month of October when evryone saw it -blue smoke with a hint of grey.
Evryone thought that it was a bush fire of some sort and quickly ran outside, the blue smoke became thicker by the second.
Sundely a servant ran out of the Robertson's house her breath in gasps, Steven Robertson, the one who saved Rick, looked up as he saw the servant running towards them and he frowned and ask:
"Lock, what is it?"
"Master!" Lock cried" It's Rick, he was found with a bottel of fairydust."
Evryone was in shock at this revelaition and was forgotten about the blue smoke and ran back to the house and froze in there steps as they looked in front of them.
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In the meantime at a palace, in the large kingdom -Silverton-, there where an argument:"You say what?" cried the king Rubertos Silverton, an elder man probaly in his sixties, whith black hair and oval formed eyes.
"lt's true your Highness." said a soldier where he knelt, the king jumped out of his seat and in a angerd tone he said: "Make sure he doesn't survive."
"Sure your Highness."
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"Rick!, where did you get fairydust" evryone exclaimed