<div style="background-color:#353535; border:1px solid black; margin:10px 10px; padding-left: 5px; padding-right: 5px;"><div style="text-align: justify;">Having arrived just in time to witness the angry conversation, Mallory tried to hide herself and her heaving breath behind an empty barrel. It was not the first time she was grateful for her insignificant size. Although she also found herself wishing she had half the strength the woman, Margo, had, to be able to push those bullies into the dust, this was probably for the better. How dare they try to beat up innocent, hungry children! Had they no shame?!<br/><br/>She could almost feel the mixture of disappointment, anger, and days of filth hanging in the air after the men left and the woman went back inside. Well, the 'days of filth' was more than a feeling, if Mal's nose still functioned normally. Still clutching the chicken, she tiptoed towards a window in the house, grabbing a tomato in the passing. What she saw through the unusually clean glass made her drop the bit of chicken she had just torn off with her mouth. She deftly caught it in her hand. No sense in wasting anything, even if Blake was just casually enjoying a gourmet meal if Mal had ever seen one! Without her! And it wasn't stolen! The improbability and envy made her head spin, and her right hand fingers became suddenly wet as the tomato was crushed in anger. How <span style="font-style: italic">could</span> he.<br/><br/>Even as Mallory was seething in anger, <a class="postlink" href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=icv-7qvFAHQ">the woman chose to look out the window</a>. Mallory froze, her most primal instincts battling for control. On one hand, neither her nor Blake had ever been exactly welcome anywhere. On the other hand - now he was, and there was food, as much food as the poor girl had ever seen. As it turned out, she didn't get to make a decision, as Margo marched to the door and opened it with a "Can I help you, sweetheart?"<br/><br/>Mallory almost choked. Someone was being genuinely nice. "I, uh... He's my friend. In there. That one." She pointed at Blake through the window just in case Margo didn't know who she was talking about. The woman laughed heartily. "You don't say! Why, you certainly look the type o' girl to get anyone in trouble, and like someone who needs a good meal and a nice scrub." Margo gestured at the open door, and Mallory entered, dumbstruck. It was like a dream, and she had to pinch herself as she sat down next to Blake. The chicken was carefully placed on the table in front of her. Even if food was temporarily plentiful, there was still no sense in wasting what could be saved for later.</div></div>