Tears fell from his eyes, hunger clawing at his belly. Forest knew, knew that one day in the future, maybe soon... Hunger would be his death. Life on the island of Mayur, with it's endless storms and cold weather and the greed of the wealthy, was difficult. Food was hoarded by the nobles, leaving crumbs to those in poverty. For one such as Forest, the bottom of the ladder, there was nothing left but what he could scrape together. 

Odd jobs and theft was all that happened to keep him alive, and not always. Just a month prior, he had been canned for stealing fish from a monger's shop. Blood and pain was all he knew for weeks. 

'I won't let this world kill me, give anyone the joy in killing me!' His mantra filled his mind as he rolled over on the ground by the coast. It was a rare day without rain, softly crashing waves gave him a sense of peace. 'I turn fifteen soon, I think... I wonder if there will be any good when I do. I doubt it.' Looking at the moon, full and filling the world with it's light, he could not help but ask aloud. "I am tired, hungry, sick... and hurt. If anyone cares, ancestors or gods... please, help me." 

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The earnest prayer was more a whisper, too weak to actually be called out. 

Sighing, he turned over. "No one heard me, no one cared, no one ever does." And then he fell asleep, as that was preferable to hunger... 

Anything was. 

However, as he fell into a fitful sleep, haunted by hunger, mist and fog lifted from the waters and flooded the beach... receding after a moment, showing Forest was nowhere to be found.