September 25, 2032
For some odd reason, the shuffling of feet today had a slightly faster pace to it. At first Zel paid no mind to his strange thought, but after walking a few more blocks down the street, he couldn't help but begin to wonder. Perhaps he was just hallucinating; he was running on an empty stomach and as Zel looked up, he saw that there was really no noticeable difference in the pace of humans walking. "Why am I even thinking about this?" he asked himself quizzically. He then proceeded to cease "limping." Whatever it was, there had to have been something different in the air today. It was then Zel realized that he was not receiving curious glances -he usually stuck out of the crowd relatively easily- such as previous days.
His stomach emitted a low growl, bringing the young man out of his thoughts. Out of the corner of his eye he caught sight of a small concession stand, presumably selling what was known as a "hotdog" to him. Luckily, the owner was facing away from the stand and appeared to be observing the decoration of a building wall. As Zel made the pass next to the stand, his hands began to work. As he brought his left hand to his right bicep, his right hand moved in the same motion to snatch up a cooked sausage and conceal it under his left arm, never breaking step. Zel made a motion to cough with the same hand and devour the deliciousness while also turning to make sure his actions had not compromised him.
Zel's strength slowly crept back into his body and began to feel warmer. As he continued to walk, block after block, he wondered how long it had been that he first stepped foot in this city. The details of his arrival were sketchy, days had blurred into each other. Days of running, hoping Pures wouldn't slit his throat in the night, and most of all isolation. Zel wasn't the social type, but there were times when he would want advice from someone, to know where to go.
Zel, lost in his thoughts once again, was soon feeling a change in the atmosphere. It felt.. dense. He noticed people scurrying towards the way he had just come, shifting their eyes behind them rather frequently. In a matter of seconds, he had more than enough evidence to decide something was amiss. Zel positioned himself on his toes to view the scene a few blocks away. He strained his eyes long enough to make out people gathered around a train. And from this train, he seemed to have missed the well-armored humans as his eyes were fixed to the objects they were carrying: weapons.