“Hey! You! Get back here!” a plump, middle-aged man wearing an apron yells as you sprint down the street. His words only make you run faster, but as you speed up, you can hear his steps starting to slow until finally, he comes to a complete stop. A string of curses race after you, but his vulgar language doesn’t faze you. All you care about is not getting caught, so when your eye catches an indent in the wall of buildings, and after one final glance back to make sure the man isn’t following you, you slink from the desolate streets into an abandoned alleyway. Sliding your back against the wall, you gulp in some much needed air before you set the stolen bag down, sifting hastily through its contents.
Much to your disappointment, all you pull out are two loaves of bread. You’d been hoping to get your hands on some meat; it’s been a while since you had any, and besides, bread was easy to get - it was meat that people guarded with their lives. Sighing, yo