Dream? Nightmare? Memory ? He knew it was the last one, but pretending it never happened kind of made it all a bit easier to process.

He was back at that place. Village square, circle made of stomped mud and cow shit, filthy people dressed mainly in animal skins sitting around cheering. Somewhere in center of it his bastard of father, laughing while taking bets, bets on his life like always. Lobo felt anger like red curtain started to cloud his vision; he forced himself to look at his opponent. More a man than a boy, at least 19 years old, muscular, torso covered with scares. Bad news however you look at it.

Larger, stronger, experienced opponent. Maybe Lobos father finally decided to profit off his death, not unexpected but that doesn’t make it any better. As shitty as his life was Lobo rather enjoyed breathing, trait that existed through anyone who shared an ounce of their poisoned blood. Human cockroaches.

Betting finally was over, it was the show time. His opponent moved straight up, obviously quite aware of the fact that when he corners his quite smaller enemy it’s game over. Lobo growled and leaped forward, call it gamble, long shot, death wish, whatever .At the point they clashed Lobo received crushing knee blow to the ribs, he actually heard few of them snapping. However at the same time he had both of his hands on opponents face, he just grabbed and pushed both of his thumbs through enemies eyes less then second before inertia sent him flying sideways.

Well this was new kind of pain even for him, and he knew pain. He somehow staggered to his knees while blood started rushing from his mouth. He shook his head to clear his vision, slowly realizing that screaming that was ringing in his ears wasn’t him.

Boy he was fighting blindly staggered around, falling over every obstacle and letting that inhuman never ending howl. Lobo grunted while he pull himself to his feet, he looked around and soon found what he wanted, fist sized stone with sharp edges. Since moving was really painful he just kind of waited for the moment enemies back was exposed to him and then he stroke . First strike took him down, after that Lobo just kneeled on him and continued to strike ignoring blood, screams and gray mater until body under him finally went limp and silent.

He ignored yelling and clamor around him, people complaining or picking up their bets. Trying to ignore the pain and blood that would not stop periodically fill his mouth was job enough. However when he noticed pair of well polished boots in front of him he raised his head. Very well dressed man was looking down on him and when their eyes met Lobo froze for first time in his life, he felt like a rat cornered by a tiger and he done what all cornered rats do, bared his fangs to the man.

But man just smiled and crouched next to him.

Boy what do you get from slightly disgusted wave of hand included all circus around them this.

Lobo frowned to the question

Food.

Man raised his eyebrows

Food?

Lobo shrugged

Meat.

Man shook his head.

How old are you?

16.

Man again shook his head and Lobo disliked it, he was not to be pitied, he was one still drawing breath. He was one who will eat tonight.

Man noticed his annoyance and smiled again and reached inside his coat, and pulled out probably most beautiful thing Lobo ever saw. Silvered handled dagger in hilt of smooth brown leather, handle itself stylized in form of two intervening snakes. He putted it in Lobos hand.

If you ever cross ocean, show that to right people and many doors will be opened to you.

Man stood up and this time openly grinned down to the boy again overwhelming him with his presence.

Don’t die on me wolfboy.

Lobo fallowed him with his gaze as he left village and when he was finally out of sight. Then he looked down on the blade given to him, he tightening his grasp around it. Then he grinned himself showing his overgrown canines. Die? Dying wasn’t on the menu, not for a long time.  

Once again my dear Lobo you have pulled out a story i was quite pleased to read. Great job brother.

SINGERROURKE walks off with a copy of the street story.

Katana happily grabs a copy of the story.

Lobo you have quite a gift here. I look forward to seeing more from you.

Katana had been hiding from Katie all day and when she finally found her she was nose deep in a story. Katie swiftly stole the copy from her friend and instantly started to read ignoring the calls behind her from Katana. After she finished reading Katie politely gave the copy back to Katana and smiled.

I know why you were so interested in that. It was really good.

Katie then went into Katana's apartment, the two women lived across the hall from each other and searched Katana's desk for a pen and some fine note paper. After finding some Katie wrote Lobo a letter.

Love your story! Another great read. Can't wait till the next!

She signed her name at the bottom and sent a mail boy to deliver it.