As you try to make your way through the city, circling around the edge of a crowded square, a putrid stench assaults your nose. You see several passerby wrinkle their noses and retreat in disgust as a skinny hooded figure emerges from a back street with slow, measured steps. Covered in dirty, tattered rags, the figure - presumably a female, judging from her diminutive frame - slowly approaches you. Spare a coin for a poor soul, sir? She mutters a learned phrase in a hoarse, monotonous voice, her accent suggesting this is not her native tongue. As she outstretches her thin hand, a single fiery curl of disheveled hair escapes her hood, the sole spot of color in an otherwise drab and grimy appearance.

Her hands and body shaking with cold, she silently mouths words of gratitude before disappearing into the crowd again, her back bent under the weight of nothingness. She moves through alleys and side streets, avoiding direct contact with others to hide her stench. In a quiet nook, she hides away from view, unwraps a piece of old, hard bread and takes a nibble, savoring its texture on her tongue as if it were the most exquisite delicacy. She shoves the rest of the bread into her mouth and swallows quickly, wincing at the pain in her stomach as it tries to digest the food, long unused to such nourishment. With a sigh, she licks her dirty fingers clean and starts searching for a place to spend the night... anywhere out of the wind and rain.

She silently scavenges through trash cans and finds some rotten vegetables and spoiled meat. Her stomach protesting against it, she eats a little and wonders if she would be more full with the bread alone. Still, this is all she has, so she must eat everything to survive.

Even if I eat this all now, it'll just make me sick later. Tomorrow I should find something more... acceptable. Maybe even try asking for food at some church? But they might want to help in other ways too. Ugh, why does life have to be so complicated...

She takes a bite of the rotten vegetables and meat before wandering off, unsettled and anxious about her prospects for survival in this harsh world. The night grows colder and she shivers under her threadbare cloak, silently cursing herself for being so trusting when she first arrived in this city... perhaps things would be different if she had known then what she knows now...

She hates being hungry... but she knows that eating like this would make her sick later. Maybe there's a dumpster somewhere with cleaner food... Her stomach growls in protest, as if it could hear the futile thought. Sighing, she continues her endless search for survival, ignoring the curious gazes of passersby and the sympathetic pats on their arm. Sometimes, they even give her a coin or two when they think no one's looking... it's better than nothing.

Maybe... if I seem less desperate... they'll give me more. She thinks to herself as she forces a smile and lifts her chin, pretending to be more confident than she really is. It feels wrong, almost insulting to those who have helped her in the past with nothing but honesty, but it's the only way she knows how to survive now...