A long, dreary sigh rolled out of Evander's beak as he slumped against the clay wall of the alley, staring out into the hustle and bustle of the Essyrni marketplace with a twinge of misery in his eyes. A little over two years ago, he would have been sitting at one of those stalls, pedaling his wares alongside his fellow traders. That was the past. Ever since his escape from bondage several months ago, he had lived the life of a pauper; begging and scavenging were his way of life, having to fight with stray dogs and rats for scraps of meat and bread crusts. His feathers and fur, once vibrant and gleaming, were now haggard and dull from malnutrition and neglect.
"Oh, why does Fate hate me so...?" the griffon moaned, oily tears beginning to stream down his face as reminiscence and nostalgia yanked at his heartstrings.
