Your name is DAVE STRIDER. You are 17 years old, and are wandering the streets with only a back-pack full of supplies. Supplies that would probably only last you a few days. Well, you weren't able to pack that many things into this tiny backpack. Plus, you had to get out of the house before your brother got home.
It's not like he'd even notice if you left. All he does is skulk around the house in the shadows.
He wont care. In fact, you think he'll be glad.
You sigh, adjusting your coat so it feels right. You ruffle your hair to shake off the water beads that stick to your golden locks. This fucking rain just wont let up. You need a place t
