The Blood I Spill for You

Here's a Fifty, Buy Yourself a Birthday Present

  "Shut up, I know a red when I see one! It's a green!" A woman yelled up ahead. Dave cocked an eyebrow curiously, picking up his pace. It wasn't easy to missclass a troll. Dave made his way to the front of a crowd, which was circled around two people arguing and a troll boy at the end of a chain leash. She's right, physically he was too slender to be red, but that didn't mean it was impossible. His completion did hold some warmth.

The boy looked sick, ribs poking out and connected to a jagged spine. His eyes were dark, tired. Every breathe he took looked laboured, painful. Dave squinted, watching the colour of the grey shift one shade darker in certain spots. Makeup, probably covering scars and bruises. Dave had to turn away.

  "This here ain't no green! It's a red blood," the supplier argued back. He had a thick accent and a lisp.

The woman, with an important looking name tag pinned to her dress shirt, grabbed the troll by the hair. She ordered him to stand. He did so obediently, legs already shaking. She lifted his grey arm and held it up to his lips, "bite."

The boy looked up at her with scared eyes, shaking his head. She slapped him roughly across the face, almost knocking him to the ground. "I said bite." He trembled in place as the woman shoved his hand in his mouth. Mewling softly, the troll bit down, breaking his own skin. She scowled as the bright red blood dripped down his wrist. It was red, but very far from any other troll.

"What's this?" She let go of his wrist, turning sharply to the vender. The boy dropped back down to the ground and licked at the wound. He curled up, dropping his head to rest on the floor, protecting his hand.

  "I'm still sure he's green, just mutated is all! Don't make me call security," she growled. The man's face boiled, but he did not say another word.

Dave looked at the boy: he had stubby, round horns and a short, but lean looking build. With the proper food, nutrience to fill his sunken cheeks and brighten his eyes, he would be quite handsome. Which is good, it's good to look healthy, feel good. Looks aren't everything it's more important to be healthy, he doesn't have to explain himself to himself. Dave stopped thinking.

  "I'll take him," he said, stepping forward. Dave vowed to never stop thinking again.

The crowed cleared to reveal a tall, blond boy holding a chibi My Little Pony wallet. Dave took a step forward, and held out a fifty dollar bill. "This should be enough."

The man snatched it up, before the name tag woman changed her mind and didn't let him sell the troll with the wrong assigned colour. He quickly handed the chain over to Dave and gathered up the adoption papers. "Just sign here and here," he handed him a pen.

  "Dave Elizabeth Strider," he wrote twice, keeping one copy and handing the other back. He looked at the bold words above his name, which read,"

          Name: Karkat Vantas
          Blood Type: Red
          Date Of Birth: Unknown
          Breeder: Unknown
          Training: Completed
          Additional Skills: Unknown"

So helpful.

Ignoring the scraping and chatter around him, Dave took a knee beside the trembling boy, Karkat Vantas. "Can you walk?"