Alinash in the Trash

(( I’m catching up on prompts and included one of the ones from July with this story. The prompt was a story that starts with “F*** you”. So, I’m putting this one under the cut. ))

“Fuck you.” Alinash Brightblaze muttered under his breath at a rat as he walked around one pile of trash to another. He had worn his worse clothes for the day, and already he smelled ripely of decaying food and old musty garbage. He had tried not breathing too much, but the fact remained that he had to breathe to stay alive. A flock of gulls had decided to follow him. Thanks to his digging, some food had been uncovered. It was nothing he would have ate no matter how badly he was starving, but the gulls didn’t seem to mind. A white gooey mess landed on his shoulder, and he looked up at the birds. “And fuck you too.”

Digging in trash was not the way he wanted to spend his day, but of the places to check, it was the safest thing for him to do. He started pulling things out of the pile in front of him, and the gulls swooped down to grab any uncovered crumbs as quickly as possible, each trying to beat the other to their prize.

“Go away!” Alinash yelled, waving his arms. They dispersed to a safer distance, but not far enough in his mind. They watched intently as he began to dig again. One of them flew down closer. Then another. Alinash decided to give up. He’d have to go home smelling like trash and covered in seagull poop. Everyone might decide to hate him then. Harrier wouldn’t want to stay in the same room with him tonight no matter how much he showered.

“Stupid. You’re stupid.” He said to himself as the seagulls squawked and fought over pieces of old crushed bread nearby. He was still the second choice, no matter how much anyone claimed to care.

Stop trying to talk to them. Just shut up, and let them do what they came to do.

The more he thought about it, the more he thought Syrina was right— about a lot of things. None of it was his business. He was just Harrier’s bed warmer and that’s all he could hope to be. He still wasn’t sure about staying to continue to warm his bed, but when the other elf had said he was sorry the other night, after the boss had told him not to expect an apology, he decided it was time to drop it. Maybe he would stay. Maybe he wouldn’t. He had more important things to think about.

Like his stupid bauble.

The new one that Harrier had bought him now hung around his neck. He paused his digging to look at it. The sunlight glistened off it and made the garbage heap seem more distant, but the associations with it made him feel worse. It was given to him the same day that Harrier had proven just how little Alinash mattered. It was a reminder of that now.

You’re nothing to them.

He frowned and continued digging, pulling aside some wet papers to reveal a half rotted rat, or something that resembled a rat. He backed away while covering his mouth.

“Hey! Hey you! Get away from my spot!”

Alinash turned to see a disheveled older man running towards him with a stick raised. If he had been in Silvermoon, he would have stayed to fight, but not wanting his hat to be knocked off, Alinash started backing away.

“I wasn’t trying to take anything of yours. I was looking for something of mine.”

“Get away from my spot!” The crazy old man kept heading towards him.

Alinash continued backing up, until he slipped on something slimy and fell backwards into it. He slipped again while trying to get to his feet, and once more after the stick came crashing down on his back. The man raised it again.

“Stop. Stop. I’m going.”

The stick came down on him again. “You better be going. No one gets in my spot!”

Alinash struggled to his feet under the blows of the stick. Luckily for him, the old man wasn’t that strong. He held his hat in place as his ran away from him.

Satisfied that the man hadn’t followed him, he chose a new spot and started digging again.


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