" Filthy urchins. They waste their life in search of meager things, all you need is power. Then evrything is clear."
A red-haired child with dirt on his face comes to Dorcha and pulls on one leather strap of his white robes.
"Mister. Mister, my mommy needs help!"
Looks down at the little boy a pushes him onto the ground. Staring at him with a deep loathing.
" Beat it! I have no intention in helping you or whatever harlett of a mother you have."