"Hello?" Blaine called out, just above a whisper. "Is there anyone under here?"

There was shuffling coming from a far corner under the small wooden porch, then silence.

He strained his eyes to see in the dim light of nightfall, studying a silhouette as he inched closer.

"I'm not going to hurt you," He could see the figure more clearly as he got closer, making out sharp bones and pallid skin that was streaked with dirt and grime. He could see the figure quivering lightly. It was a boy.

Blaine was halfway under the porch by then, squeezing past a couple of support beams. The boy seemed to be more scared the closer he got, so he stopped.

"Hello there," He said nervously. The boy shifted so he was sitting on his knees. "I'm Blaine, I live here. Well not here exactly, but, in- in the house. . ."

A beat.

"Are you hurt?"

Silence.

"Are you hungry?" There was shuffling. Blaine could see an odd shape behind the boy, almost like . . . wings.

He held out his hand slowly, careful not to startle the boy, speaking in the most comforting voice he could muster. "Come on, grab my hand. I promise I don't bite."

The boy eyed him wearily in the darkness, crawling slowly over to Blaine.

Blaine could see the wings clearly now, the long feathers being dragged in the dirt. He stiffened as a sense of anger and curiosity ran over him.

He had never seen an Ave prior to then, not in person at least. Aves were expensive, a luxury that only few people could afford. Throwing something as precious as an Ave, a person, out on the street with no where to go depressed and infuriated Blaine.

The boy's clammy hands took Blaine's in a loose grip as Blaine led his out from under the porch.