"Child, you seemed lost." A benevolent voice said to a young man with tattered clothes and his face filled with bruises and scars sitting on a clean staircase, panting.
The young man looked behind and saw a smiling old priest, and then he noticed the building behind him. It was a temple.
"I'll leave." Said the young man in his weak yet cold voice as he tried to stand, but failed. Because of his exhausted state, he grumbled because of the pain he felt from the wounds.
"I didn't mean to chase you away. You're in the temple of god, and he would never chase away pitiful." The priest replied as he moved toward the young man to support him.
But the young man didn't let the old priest approach him, and with great difficulty, stood up. "I'm not pitiful, nor do I believe in any god."
Finished saying, the young man tried to walk away, but just as he took a step he lost his balance and fell to the ground, groaning in pain.
Suddenly, he felt a skinny yet firm hand struggle to l him up.
