"Are you sure he's not dead Boss? Just look at him. He looks like he's been catching bricks with his face."
"I don't care if he's alive or dead. He might have a bit of coin on him." A pair of hands rummaged through Dean's pants as he slowly regained consciousness and overheard this conversation.
His initial reaction was to bolt upright and confront the man stealing from him but his instincts screamed that doing so would only worsen the situation.
So he squashed his fear and decided to lie still and let the man finish rummaging through his pants. With any luck, he'd leave after he was done.
"Tch, the bastard is just as poor as we are." The hands finished the search with one last rough pat-down of his pants' pockets before swiftly reaching up to his collar.
The man's movements were smooth and fluid as if he'd done similar actions plenty in the past.
"No jewelry on him either. I expected as much but you never know these days.
No luck with this one Mickey. Let's wrap things up here and get back to the docks before all of the best spots are taken."
There was a long pause after the man finished his sentence. If it wasn't for the lack of receding footsteps he would've thought that they'd left him alone already.
'What are they waiting-'
A stream of hot liquid hit his face and made him abandon his efforts to pretend to be asleep. He bolted upright. sputtering for breath as he tried to spit out the urine in his mouth.
"Hehe, did you really think I didn't notice you were faking? It looks like you were having a hard time getting up so I decided to give you a bit of daddy's special brew."
'This can't be real. D-did he really just do that?' Dean stared slack-jawed as the man pulled up his trousers as the two men continued. "Hey, Boss just look at him. He ain't up yet. He looks like he needs a few more cups before he can really wake up."
"Is that true, buddy?" The question was accompanied by two mean-spirited slaps to his left cheek as the man squatted down to look Dean in the face.
Up close Dean could see the rough, coarse skin of a man that made his living doing work outdoors. Bronzed skin encased a squarish head, below a mop of short cut greasy black hair. A nose flattened and crooked from being broken one too many times rested between a pair of dark brown eyes.
He continued to cackle at his own hilarity. "You enjoyed the flavor that much huh? Hehe, I appreciate the compliment but daddy's all tapped out at the moment. Come back in a few hours and I'll see what I can do for you."
With that, he delved into another fit of laughter while waving at the other man. Some of the urine must have clung to his hand when he slapped Dean because a few drops arced gracefully through the air and landed just inches from the other man's right shoe.
'Watch it, Boss". His companion, while not as bulky as the first man, playfully twirled a small knife between his fingers. "Some of that almost got on me."
Boss, as the other man called him, scrunched his face together and looked down at his left hand before reaching over towards Dean's brown shirt.
He had to search for a few seconds to find a patch that wasn't already soaked in urine before he finally found a dry patch to clean his hand on.
"Come on Mickey. He doesn't have any money on him and we need to get to the docks to catch the morning rush."
"Okay, boss. I was hoping to get some grub on the way but times are tough. Even two hard-working and handsome individuals like us can barely afford to live in the city these days. Those damned high classed snobby bast-"
"Shut your mouth. I keep telling you to watch what you say out here in public. One slip-up and they'll be fishing your bloated corpse out of the harbor."
"S-sorry boss."
The conversation receded from earshot as the pair took a left after exiting the alley.
All the while, Dean sat rigidly trying to comprehend what just happened.
His common sense was telling him that none of what just transpired was real, but the drop of urine dangling from his eyelash and stinging his eye said differently.
"Fffuuuucckkk!!!"
***********************
3 minutes later
"Okay, let's think things through." Dean finally calmed down enough to think about his situation. The alley wall he leaned against was oddly sticky but its cool surface helped to calm him down and clear his mind.
'The alley may be disgusting but it was relatively safe.' Or as safe as any other place for Dean right now.
Beneath the shame of his recent embarrassment and the fear of his unknown situation, Dean was overcome with a feeling of weakness.
It almost felt as if his blood sugar was low and he needed to eat something sweet immediately. Only the feeling of weakness felt more visceral and exponentially more urgent than a bout of hypoglycemia.
It was partly why he had been so docile and meek in front of the two men earlier.
Sure, he was outnumbered and outmuscled but he felt too out of it to even put up a token resistance.
Something was off about him and he didn't what it was.
Even now he could feel an inexplicable pull towards one of the piles of trash that were haphazardly created throughout the alley.
The pull urged him towards one of the smaller piles of trash located deeper within the alley.
Using the wall for support, he stumbled deeper into the alley to investigate further.
The pile of trash was primarily composed of a dark brown sludge, broken pieces of odds and ends, discarded paper, and small bones that had been gnawed on and cracked open for the bone marrow.
Nestled within a small divet at the top of the mound rested a small figure.
Mewling Canine- Lesser Apparition(Beast)
HP: 50
MP: 25
Attack Rating: 1
Defense Rating: 0
Active Abilities: N/A
Passive Abilities: N/A
Anima produced per turn: 1
Born from an infantile creature that succumbed to death because of starvation and neglect.