It was stormy and a mixed family of hellkin and haruk'ai were stuck, the wheel of their carriage in the mud. Two kids run out to drag them to the large farmhouse, leading the family's horses to the barn, so they can find rest and shelter. The two kids, still preteens, were trying to care for the farm and what's left of its animals by themselves, their own families, sadly, gone. -- BKF
Unwelcome People are, generally speaking, always prepared to run. It's why most of them are traveling folk. Carrying their homes, and everything dear in a wagon, cart, or together in a caravan.
In those situations, family is more than the people who made them. Family is found in gutters, rescued from the woods, picked up along the way. And sometimes, parents are people who fall in love in spite of the world around them. Such was the patchwork family of a Hellkin, a Harukh, and two foundlings they almost tripped over while hunting or foraging.
The two little Halfbreds had yet to learn that family happened by other means. That was a talk for another day, because their traveling home had thrown a wheel in the pouring rain. A wheel that had smashed into splinters a hundred and twenty yards further down the muddy road.
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