As the man turned and spat his reply at her, Rose showed no reaction. He explained how the kid had stolen from him and deserved punishment and she felt not an ounce of sympathy for the man. He asked if she knew the punishment for stealing from him when she obviously would not, although it was pretty easy to put the pieces together. Given that she thought this might take a nasty turn, she quietly snapped her fingers, which would create a pocket dimension around them. This would make it so that things that happened here would have no physical consequences in the real world, should she choose.<br/><br/>The man snapped his fingers and some of the others in the group grabbed the boy and shoved his face into the cold, hard ground. She grit her teeth a bit and held her tongue for the moment, biding her time. A woman held the child's arm out while the man took out a butcher knife and explained what punishment he saw fit for the boy's crime: loss of limb.<br/><br/>She felt anger building inside of her, something she had not felt in a long time. She felt nothing most of the time nowadays, which was probably why she spent her life searching for things to make me feel something. This was not the feeling she was searching for, but it was what she had found.<br/><br/>She wanted to help the boy when he cried out to her, begging for her help. It was strange. No one ever asked for her help. Probably because she never put herself in situations where anyone might think her the type to help if they asked. But she thought that even if she hadn't done such a crazy thing already, this kid might have asked anyways. And why shouldn't he. He was a child. Why shouldn't he hope there are some decent adults out there who would help. Admittedly, she did not think herself a decent person, but she was not so low that she would harm a child or turn her back while someone else did.<br/><br/>Maybe it was because she saw herself in him. Because she knew exactly how it felt to be poor, to have to lie, cheat, steal, and manipulate just to survive. She knew what it was like to get a swift beating when you got caught. But she'd been lucky enough to never steal from someone depraved enough to actually kill or dismember a child. This one was not so lucky, obviously.<br/><br/>"Damn it," she mumbled as the boy again begged her, telling her what she had already guessed, that he was just like what she had once been. This earned him another kick, one that made him weak enough to collapse. The man took this opportunity to raise his knife and the kid passed out, probably due to shock. She couldn't blame him. And anyways, that was probably for the best. A kid didn't need to see what was about to happen.<br/><br/>She reached out and grabbed the man's hand just before he could swing the knife, giving it a quick twist, hard enough to cause him to drop the knife. She then pulled him forward and drove her knee up to meet his face. Her knee slammed into his face with a loud<span style="font-style: italic">crack!</span>and the man fell backwards from the force, his head landing on the hard ground with another loud<span style="font-style: italic">crack!</span><br/><br/>Rose then turned her attention to the others in the group, gesturing for them to come at her. Not a single one of them was a trained fighter, so she felled each and every one of them in less than a minute without even using her abilities. As the others lay unconscious, the first man managed to somewhat recover. He rolled himself over and reached for the knife he had dropped before. Rose stepped on his hand with her left foot and picked up the knife with her right hand before bending over. The man had a look of terror on his face but it didn’t move her one millimeter. “This was what you were about to do to him, right?” she asked before bringing the knife down hard, separating his hand from his arm. The man screamed in shock and pain, a sound no one but her would hear, before he, too, lost consciousness.<br/><br/>Rose then stood up, staring down at the man with an empty look on her face before snapping her fingers once again. As she did, the scene changed only minimally. Any broken noses or missing teeth she had given the group she chose not to revert; however, the first man’s hand was once again attached to his body. The injury may have healed, but that man would never forget the horror and pain he felt when he lost that hand. Maybe that would deter him from trying to take the hand of the next child he caught stealing. She then took out her wallet and tossed some cash on the unconscious man. She wouldn’t leave here owing anyone anything.<br/><br/>She shrugged and turned away from them and to the boy. His injuries that he received after she had snapped her fingers were all healed, or to be more precise, it was as though they had never happened. She bent down and picked up the apple that had slid out of the bag and wiped it off, placing it back in the bag. She waved her hand over the bread that had been stepped on and it was whole again, as though nothing had happened. She placed the bread back in the bag, along with some cash, before kneeling next to the boy and placing the bag next to him.<br/><br/>She stared for a moment at his innocent little face and, for what felt like the millionth time that night, she muttered to herself, “damn it.” She felt bad for the kid, but there were a million kids like him out there. She couldn’t take care of him and if she tried to help every kid like him she came across, she would go broke. Besides, she’d never been the bleeding-heart type. Still, she felt obligated to do something. After all, he’d asked for her help.<br/><br/>She bent down and scooped him up, snatching the bag while she was at it, and headed off down the street. The least she could do was make sure he wasn’t around those goons when he woke up. She found the nearest hotel and paid for a room for a few nights. At least he could sleep in a bed for a little while. She got him in the room and laid him on the bed. She placed the bag of food on the table near the bed and scribbled a note on the notepad the hotel left on the table. It was a simple note, nothing wordy or sentimental.<span style="font-style: italic">"Consider this an investment. You can pay me back when you're older.  - Rose.  P.S. It'll be hard to repay me if you lose a hand, so no more stealing, 'kay? Well, don't get caught, at least."</span><br/><br/>Before she left she took the necklace she was wearing and placed it in his palm, closing his little fingers around it and tucking him in clumsily. If he sold that, he would be able to survive without needing to steal for a long time. On that note, she had officially crossed the line of what she was comfortable with doing, so she needed to get out of here before she did something even worse. “Good luck, kid,” she said before turning to leave.