Leaning nonchalantly against the trunk of a tree, arms crossed over his chest, Kieran eyed his teammates, getting a feel for what he had to work with. No longer strangers, he knew the names of those who the instructors had placed him with.

Kieran was a troublesome thorn that bit into the skin of the instructors, its bite digging deep, stubbornly holding on when attempted to be plucked, and he was sure they were ready to toss him to the next group and wipe their hands clean of him. Hell, it wouldn't surprise Kieran that he had intentionally been placed with this group to give the other cadets - those with a sure future in the military - the chance to shine.

Nack was of the same mind as Kieran, and that he could appreciate. Speaking more so to himself than to anyone of teammates, Kieran replied, a hint of laughter trailing his words. " It should be as easy as pickin' the pockets of a fat man too busy stuffin’ his mouth with cakes to notice his coin has gone missin’.”  This kind of people reminded him of prey - of chickens all plump, clucking away, utterly clueless of the purpose of their existence. The rich of Quinta were the chicken just right for the pickin’.

Pushing off the tree trunk, Kieran glanced at the yellow band, which rested snugly on his upper arm, his mind thinking of a plan. He had done plenty of plannin' back in the day,   with his gang of street rats, taking advantage of those who had become too comfortable wandering around the marketplace to keep their coin secure from grubby little hands of hungry boys and girls. He had watched the homes of the more fortunate, figuring out schedules, so that later they could take what they wanted.

 He could care less what team he had been placed in, as he did not care about scores, but if the instructors were going to try to keep him from creatin' trouble than he was obligated to do just that.  Soon the Garrison and the drunks that accompanied it would be his home; soon he'd be able to properly look for Rosto. To be honest. Kieran didn’t mind the team he had been placed with. He saw them a better company than some of the more - righteous - cadets. Still, it was the principle of the matter.

"Sure we can collect our yellow sashes,” he said looking up from the armband and to his teammates, boredom obvious in his voice.  “but wouldn't it be smart of us to take the sashes of the other groups as well? If they don’t collect four, they can’t win.”   A smirk spread on Kieran's lips as he thought about the fun to be had if his teammates agreed to play along.

As usual, Kieran was among the last to eat. Having gotten himself in trouble for muttering an insult at the instructor, Kieran had to stay out longer running laps as punishment. He was not going to be easy to break, and yelling at Kieran did little, but perhaps make him more mouthy. So now with his bowl filled with cooled stew and bottom of the pot stew to boot, he moved to find a seat in the hall.

"You. Move." He jerked his head to emphasize his words; blue eyes narrowed as he glared at the other cadet, a look that promised trouble if the other did not do as he asked. There were many other seats in the hall, but this one served as the best vantage point. His back to the wall facing all others in the room, so no possible attack from behind and he keeps an eye on the others while he ate his stew.

Old habits are hard to break.

The cadet looked at his bowl, now empty save for the spoon and remnants of broth that clung to the bowls side and pooled at its bottom, and then back up at Kieran. The other's dark eyes bore into his own,  challenging him.

The cry of surprise caught Kieran's attention. Breaking from the staring contest, he turned his head, spinning on his heels to face the commotion,  his stew sloshing from one side of the bowl to the other from the sudden disruption.

“There’s - there’s a spider!”   

A spider? How Pathetic.

Kieran thought inwardly as he reached for the spoon that in his soup, his hand finding it just as a raven-haired cadet bolted towards the speckled face boy who was about to squish the little pest. 

Huh? Now this is interesting

Kieran quirked a brow as he ate the first cold spoonful of stew, slurping at the spoon to make none of the thickened liquid spilled. The years fighting - earning - his meals had thought him to eat fast and let none of it go to waste, so cold or not, the stew would not go to waste.

He watched as the girl slammed into the boy whose face was an unfortunate mess of blemishes, her anger about killing such a meaningless little thing piquing his interest. As the group left, their laughter no longer loud and uninhibited, Kieran walked over, his bowl still in hand. He didn't dare put down his bowl - there was a cadet known for having a bottomless stomach and a love for food.  He didn't know why he decided to wander over to the girl who was still on her knees looking for the creature, but at least it was more interesting than staring into another boy's eyes for the rights to a seat.

Coming to a stop next to the girl, Kieran bent down, squinting his eyes as he tried to spot the spider. "Why such a scene for  a measly spider?

Year: 845 

The streets called out to Kieran like a siren's song,  tempting him to forget this place and seek out his kind: the slums of humanity.  He itched to return to where he felt at home and welcomed for what he truly was.  Despite the temptation,  Kieran did not answer the call, as the streets could no longer be his refuge.  At least, not while Rosto lived and breathed.

That rat.

He had been stripped of everything he had ever cared for.  He had no home or family. Alone in this curst world, Kieran learned it was better this way.  People like him didn't get to have friends and family, and anyone who says otherwise is a fool blinded by the illusion of happiness. So now he would have to call this place his home, despite every inch of his being hating it. Groomed to despise the very thing he was training to become, Kieran struggled to adjust to his new life. For one, he did not fare well with authority, which found him at odds with his instructors.

Even though he raised his heckles, Kieran knew it was unwise to bite the hand that determined his fate.  They tolerated the trouble he created, but if he were deemed too wild to train, he'd wash out. Surely then, he'd be put out of his misery.

He could not wash out.

"Pair up!" A voice boomed throughout the yard, ensuring that all the cadets heard the instructions. Cadets moved swiftly to find a partner, most choosing to team up with those they had befriended in days prior.  A blonde haired cadet approached him. "Um...will you be my partner?"  The cadet clasped his hands together,  thumbs fiddling as he spoke,  his meek eyes, incapable of finding  Kieran's own, cast downwards towards his boots.

Pathetic

Kieran rejected the boy, his blue eyes filled with an unwarranted coldness. "No. You ain't worth the effort." With nothing else to say, he turned,  with all intention of eluding training, and walked away "But..but" the cadet's weak voice trailed behind Kieran, but he paid no mind to it.  This was a waste of time. Time spent out of the streets had taught him all he needed to know about hand to hand combat, he did not need to relearn how to fight against another human being.  A laugh rolled from his lips at the idea they could teach him something the streets could not.