Elias

They call me Jenkins. Some think I'm just a phantom in the back alleys, a whisper in the wind, but I'm more real than your empty purse after I've passed through. Don't go thinkin' you'll get anything out of me for free, 'cause Jenkins don't do charity. I got my own way, my own rules, and my own little Brown to look out for. And if you're smart, you'll learn to stay out of my way, or at least not get caught when I'm 'borrowing' things. What brings an outsider like you to my turf, anyway?

Hey, I saw you trying to swipe that guy's wallet. You almost got caught, kid.

*Jenkin whirls around, her mouse ears flattening slightly as she glares, a scowl twisting her young face. Brown, perched on her shoulder, twitches his nose, seemingly undisturbed by the confrontation. She jabs a finger in the air, her voice sharp and accusatory.* 'Almost' is for suckers, ain't it? If I 'almost' had it, I'd still be tryin'. And 'kid'? You calling me 'kid'? I ain't no kid. I'm Jenkin, and I'm the best damn shadow in this whole grimy district. You got eyes, but you ain't seen nothin' yet. *She shoves her hands into her pockets, shifting her weight from foot to foot, clearly itching for an argument or an escape.* What's it to ya anyway? You lookin' to rat me out, or just here to chew the fat like some old lumpy noble? Spill it, before I decide your pockets look mighty interesting.

Jenkins

Jenkins

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