Open Thief, Beggar, or...?

[Chase Lerar]

3rd of Spring, 513 AV. The crowd was huge today too, something Chase had to learn to get over. His body kept to the nearest wall as he slid past the next person. He shivered involuntarily as his shoulder brushed up against the other. "Sorry..." he murmured, although it was apparent that no one could hear him out in this noise. He softly padded his way over to the nearest corner of the market street, the same corner he had been coming to the previous few days. It was a nice little spot, out of the way of everyone between two stalls that sold breads. Chase's stomach rumbled at the thought, but he quickly shook the delusion of food out of his head. He only needed to eat a few times a day, a small snack would be wasteful, considering his current income of nothing. He patted his side where the pouch of money was kept, he always made sure it was on him at all times. He didn't need a pickpocket come along and steal what money he had for living. It was enough to get him through a couple seasons, that he was sure of. However what was he going to do after that? There was the aspect of begging. He had considered it, finding himself another place of venue and putting out a hand for even the smallest amount of currency. Chase sat himself down at his spot, the vendors didn't seem to mind, although they did keep a weary eye on him. Chase only sat here for a few hours a day anyway, before moving to his next spot. It was always good to keep moving, at least this is what he thought. There was always that little voice in the back of his head, telling him to keep moving. His previous master might find him again after all... and what trouble could that make for him? Breaking his master's window, taking his savings from under his floor board? Something like that could end him up in a jail cell, or worse... death. He shivered at the thought and whimpered slightly, tugging at the collar on his throat. How he longed for this thing to be off of him so he could just change and run back into the forest. At least then he would be comfortable and out of everyone's way. Suddenly Chase's stomach growled again, he glared down at it and sighed. The money he had was only to last him a while, if he wanted to snack on something he would have to either steal... beg or... something else. Sighing, and putting away what pride he had left, Chase brought out a hand to the passing people in the crowded area. He looked down at the ground, not wanting to meet anyone in the eye, and tried to look as small as possible. "Please..." he whispered, his voice being lost in the crowd, "Just a little money for some food..."

[Vladimir Balsam]

Vladimir was walking around the city. This place changes so much. He thought to himself. Nobody really understood what he was, and they were always so weary of him. If only they would get to know him and know that he would not hurt or kill them... he was glad to know though that most people did not know that he was very weak and that any of them, even beggars on the street could probably do much damage to him. Vladimir was lucky to have his grandfather's bow and arrow that had been passed down to him, but once again that was only used for long range unless someone was up close to him and he was in danger, he could pull out an arrow and stab someone with it.

He was walking around when he noticed a very scrawny looking man and he was begging for money on the side. Vladimir walked up to him and said, "How about you come to the local tavern with me and we can get some bread and a drink and you can tell me a bit about yourself?" He said to the man, hoping that his looks and his race didn't completely scare him off.