Dante hobbled wearily towards his makeshift dwelling, his body betraying the marks of a grueling mission.
It had been a relentless three years since he had been cast aside by the Foundation Orphanage, a tender five-year-old left to navigate the harshness of the world.
Each step through the wintry chill amplified the aches and bruises that adorned his small frame.
His first encounter with theft occurred when he spied a loaf of bread covered in mold, destined to be discarded by the baker's son after a successful day of sales.
Sadly, Dante was not privy to that fortunate turn of events. The moment the baker's son discovered him scavenging in their refuse, a vicious beating ensued, leaving an indelible mark on his young body.
Today's wounds bore a haunting resemblance to countless others he had endured over the past three years, a testament to the recurring torment he faced.
