"speech" 'thought' text
tw: injury, blood
Grimy and covered in mud as she was, there was something about the little girl that suggested a different life once. Not that Cleo cared to remember the life she had run away from, her decision was final, and looking back was not an option. Though she had a young face, her height gave away that her age was older than what she looked. She stood a good five feet tall, perhaps a bit more. Her brown hair was tangled and pulled back into a messy pony tail.
She wore a dress that was probably two sizes too big for her, with a few holes riddling the fabric here and there. Her feet were bare, calloused, rough from the life she had lead for the past few years. On her back was a small canvas bag, it was undercoated, though ripped and stained beyond the recognition of the previous owner, whoever that might have been.
Inside the bag was a green notebook with shamrocks on it, a few pens that were nearly out of ink (or already dried up) a jack knife (rusted and almost useless), and flint and steel. There was also an old scalpel, and a dirty, half empty bottle of water as well. These were all the worldly goods that Cleo possessed, but that didn't seem to bother the girl much, though she did look as though she was half starved, and in quite the need of a good meal and a good nights rest.
She had come across the town in the early morning, but had decided to wait until the next night to slip into a place and grab some supplies because she was completely out of food. Cleo had no scruples against theft, especially when that theft kept her alive, if someone had enough food or anything else and wouldn't miss a smidge, then Cleo felt it was only fair that she be able to take some for herself to survive.
She never took more than she needed, it was a point of pride with her. She didn't steal to be mean after all, she stole to keep herself from starving to death, or freezing to death, or whatever the situation called for. Creeping along the beach, keeping her body close to the back of houses, shacks, and trees as she did so, she kept out of sight of anyone who might be guarding, (at least she thought she had).
Years of living by herself in the world had taught her how to creep through places unnoticed, and she had decided that the beach was the best way in, the rest of the city seemed to have a better guard, but it was hard to watch all of the water as it lapped up, tiring even. So using that to her advantage on the dark, cloudy night, she had come in from the coast. Her hair and dress were still a bit damp, clinging to her body, and chilling her, as she slipped up the beach.
She made little sound as she neared the big blue house she had decided was her best target. Why? She'd seen food in there, people bringing food in there, and a woman. Now, usually, Cleo didn't like to say that women were nicer than men, after all, her own mother had believed that her daughter was possessed and tried to have her exorcised. Much good it had done her, Cleo wasn't possessed or a demon, she was just a slightly odd child.
The slender figure entered through a window, after carefully breaking the seal and pushing the lock upwards with a flat piece of metal. Windows were far superior to enter through than doors. Doors could squeak, and were also much larger, whereas a window, particularly a kitchen or bathroom window, were excellent points of entry (at least in the mind of the twelve year old girl who was utilizing the kitchen window as her own personal side door).
With a bit of an effort she clambered through the window, making little sound (except for scuffing her foot against the side of the window sill, and tearing the skin a bit, drawing some blood to the surface. It wasn't a big deal though, just a little cut, and she could clean it, and take care of it later. Now, where was the best place to find food... and possibly other goods to be traded. Cleo pursed her lips, and furrowed her eyebrows in thought, the room was dark, nearly pitch black (though not much of a difference from the outside, so it wasn't an adjustment for her eyes).
It was still dark in the room, and she didn't want to stumble, or alert anyone as to her whereabouts. Her eyes were adjusted to the dim light however, and as she slipped through the kitchen, trying her best not to knock anything over, her eyes fell upon fresh baked bread, she hadn't had bread in... well, she really didn't know how long, and perhaps she was a bit greedy, but she snatched up the loaf, breaking a piece off of it and stuffing it in her mouth before slipping the rest into her bag.
There were also some fruits and vegetables that she found by opening a few cabinets and looking in containers, which she deftly placed into her bag. There didn't seem to be much of good value or easily taken, perhaps she should have hit a different place. In so doing one of these pokes around for various food items, she accidentally knocked a glass from the counter, and the fragile object fell to the floor breaking loudly at the impact.
"Just great Cleo. Why don't you just scream and tell everyone you're here while you're at it!" She whispered under her breath. It took her less than a second to regain her cool head, and she vaulted onto the counter as gracefully as a cat jumping onto a bookcase. It would have been graceful at least, had her foot not touched something cold and metallic, a coil of wire on the counter that she had overlooked.
With a gasp, she found herself slipping from the counter, her feet airborne as she clutched at the air for some sort of object to grip on. However there were none, and she clattered to the floor loudly and gracefully. "Cat damnit." She swore under her breath as she scrambled to her feet. If the breaking cup hadn't woken up anyone in the house, this certainly would... now where was the damned door?
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