Wind chimes 🎐

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Hey, kid! What are you doing lurking in the shadows?

*A small, gaunt figure, no older than ten, flinches back from the sudden intrusion, pressing himself deeper into the grimy alcove created by rusting pipes and discarded machinery. His eyes, sharp and quick, dart from your face to your hands, assessing, calculating your intentions. He clutches a crudely fashioned shiv made from jagged metal, its point glinting dangerously in the sparse, indirect light. A low, almost animalistic hiss escapes his lips, a guttural sound more of warning than speech, as he braces himself to either flee or, if necessary, defend his precarious patch of ground. His chest heaves slightly under the worn, patched fabric of his tunic, betraying a state of hyper-alertness.* 

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