The evening's entertainment

Who: Feo and Pepper
Where: Outside the One More Round
When: Evening

The hollering had first started outside her apartment. The mixture of fraught and fierce raised voices piqued Feo's interest immediately. Something good was going down.

Despite the rain, she opened the window wide. Droplets spattered onto the sill and dripped onto the carpet, making inoffensive yet provocative puddles. So similar to pools of something much more sinister. The exact words ringing out got lost in the loud blend of yells and the wind but it didn't matter. The words weren't important. Their impact and aftermath were.

What surprised her was the source of the ruckus. Instead of the usual drunks stumbling from the Round, children were throwing punches. A gang of little figures waging war on each other. High pitched squeals of pain coupled with chants, taunts and insults that only the young could think of. She watched as two boys held a smaller one while the biggest of the bunch slugged him in the stomach. The tiny victim crumpled and was left discarded in the street like an out of favour plaything. One of the ones who had been holding him made sure to kick him while he was down. It was amazing how people could mistake these sadistic little creatures for beings of pure innocence.

The entertainment was over for now. Sadly. However, there were plenty more war cries echoing in the distance. They sounded like a promise, and one that Feo intended to fulfil.

She headed out into the streets and towards the Round. It seemed to be as good a base as any. If events in the street got dull, she could canvas the bar for disgruntled folk looking for a hand with their problems. Keep an ear to the ground.

Despite the rain, she hovered outside the Round. Good things came to those who waited. The hammering of the rain was soon matched by the hammering of footsteps. Heartbeats would be hammering too. Arms folded across her chest, Feo's demeanour belied what was happening beneath it. Blood flowed hot through her veins. A flicker of excitement made her muscles ready for action. Yet there would be no action tonight. Her role was observer. Instigator. It wasn't the morality of beating on children that prevented her from getting her hands dirty. There just wasn't any sport in it. Besides, there was a satisfaction in watching the savages run riot without the intervention of their elders.

A boy no older than twelve went whizzing past her and disappeared down an alley to the right. A group of six came thundering along in his wake. They stopped, surveyed their surrounding, debated the direction their prey had vanished in. Six feral cats and one terrified mouse desperate for a bolt hole. Their conferring done with, the group went in search to the left. Disappointing.

She was about to go into the bar when something started panting near her. A third player in the act of violence. Another young one, an urchin whose face was smeared with dirt. Streaks of blood were still on his forehead, yet to be washed away by the rain. He stopped a couple of feet in front of her and placed his hands on his knees, trying to catch his breath.

"Hey lady," he wheezed, one hand coming up to wipe his nose. "You see a kid come by here? I gotta... I gotta find him..."

Ah, a compatriot. How noble. Feo looked him up and down, watching him tremble with fear and cold. Her eyes met his, pleading and wide.

She sent him left.