Tom had always reminded River of a sunflower. Not a fake, unchanging sunflower, but a real sunflower, one from Earth. Tom might not be from Earth, and neither was River, but who cared? The analogy stood strong in River’s mind.

            It was a cold, snowy day when River met Tom. Being part snow person, the cold never bothered River. He was used to it, along with the dark looks he got from human parents when he would ask their kids to play. What was he supposed to do? He was six-years old for crying out loud!

            Tom was different from the very beginning. For starters, he was very short. About two feet shorter than River, who was a foot taller than all the other kids. And for another thing, his parents smiled at River and encouraged Tom to play with RIver.

            They actually smiled! Not a fake, ‘get away from my kid or else’ smile, but a real, genuine smile. So River asked Tom to play. Tom was very shy at first, but warmed up over the playdate.

            By the end of their time at the park, they were best friends. They exchanged phone numbers and texted each other for the remainder of the day. They saw each other at school when school started, two weeks later, and they were ecstatic. They quickly became inseparable.

            No one dared to taunt Tom with his extremely tall friend beside him. Over the next six years, as they all grew taller, Tom stayed fairly short and slender, but grew more confident and calm. Tom and River were happy as outcasts. Never getting involved in any sports, the two worked out together to stay in shape.

            At the age of thirteen, they added a female named Almond Birder to their outcasts group. She was a piggy monster/faun combination, with brown eyes and small, pure black horn nubs on her head. She wore her pink hair over the horn nubs on her head, but the other kids still made fun of her. That all stopped the day River, a pacifist, socked one of the kids in the face and broke his nose.

            The other kids quickly backed off after that point. No one wanted their nose broken. River was suspended for four weeks, and hung out with his friends every day during that time after they were out of school. They all dreamed of working together as patrol officers, protecting the city from the monsters prowling in the Wilds outside the city. Sure, two of the three were monsterborns, but that didn’t mean they didn’t see the danger posed by those monsters not raised by humanity.

            But things couldn’t stay the same forever and River will never forget the day everything changed. It was the sixth day of Summer, and River was just sixteen years old. He had skipped school to care for his mother, who was deathly ill with a mysterious disease. No one knew what caused it exactly, but many people blamed River, who was always freezing to the touch, him being part snow person and all that.

            Watching the news with his mother that evening, he saw two things that changed his world forever. The first story was about missing monsterborn, named Almond Birder, a fifteen-year-old who was part piggy monster, part faun. River could have recited the details by heart. He was one of her best friends!

            And then as they were talking about her disappearance, with no clues as to where she could have gone, there was another breaking news story. A house fire near River’s mother’s house. River recognized the house immediately upon seeing the footage. And he screamed.

            Tom Sai’s home was up in flames.

            River still remembers bolting out of the house like a cat with a fly trap stuck to its tail and racing down the street to his best friend’s house. When he arrived, it was too late. Pleading with the firefighters led to nothing except a ride home in the police car. His best friends were both presumed dead a week later, but neither Almond’s or Tom’s bodies were ever buried.

            They were never found. Almond’s blood was found on the sidewalk on her normal walking route from her home to her school, and Tom’s body was assumed to be burned beyond recognition. A month later, River’s mother died, and River dropped out of high school. He lost the house after failing to find work to pay the bills and found himself moving to the slums.

            Now he lives in an apartment in the rougher side of town, with a stray cat that he adopted, named Madame Rosie. He managed to get his dream job, being a patrol officer, but the win was bittersweet, more bitter than sweet. His coworkers despise him, as he is the only monsterborn working for the department, and he is paid minimum wage.

            It’s late evening, and the star their world loops around is setting. The shadows grow longer as River walks around the city walls. He only has seven more hours until his shift is over. He can do this.

            “Yo, Snowboy!” One of the other patrol officers calls him over to where she’s leaning against the wall encircling Zayn City, playing a game on her phone, and he hesitantly approaches, hoping it’s not another cruel prank.

            “Yes?” He asks, not questioning the nickname.

            He knows better than to correct them. They don’t care what his real name is. Even though it’s on his uniform, they don’t call him by his last name of Smith.

            “My walkie-talkie died. I need your radio.” The patrol officer says, her long brown ponytail glinting like bronze in the setting sunset as she glances over at him with a bored look on her face.

            “Oh. Sure.” River says, unclipping the radio from his belt and handing it to Officer Jones, as her uniform says.

            “Great, thanks.” She smirks, pushing off the wall and walking off with his radio.

            With a sigh, River realizes he’s not getting that radio back, and he can’t afford a new one. Looks like he’ll be walkie-talkie-less, unable to hear his fellow patrol officers’ warnings when monsters get close. Shaking his head, River continues his patrol. It’s pitch black outside, silent and still. The moon stares down at him and he stares back up at it for a moment before he shakes himself out of his trance. His acute hearing catches the sound of footfall running through the forest. It sounds like multiple monsters racing through the trees of the Wilds. Quietly, he slips his pistol out of his holster, and makes his way towards the sound, intending to investigate but not to harm. He only has the pistol to scare off any attacking monsters with its loud bang.

            He slowly and discreetly makes his way to the trees, expecting to see a group of monsters hunting some creature. Instead, he’s greeted by a monsterborn who’s clearly a civilized monster, as he’s wearing a red sweater with sweatpants and fuzzy boots, being chased after by men wearing black suits.

            “Hey! Stop!” River shouts, as he steps into the area raising his pistol and waving it.

            The three men screech to a halt, and the monsterborn stands beside River, panting and out of breath.

            “What is going on here?” River demands and the shortest of the three men smiles, in what he’s clearly trying to make look nonthreatening but that looks terrifyingly evil instead.

            “Sorry Officer. This monsterborn here stole something that belongs to us.”

            “And you’re chasing him in the Wilds? At one in the morning?”

            “Yes. He stole something very important. Our boss wants it back.”

            “I see. What exactly did he steal?” River asks, not buying the story in the slightest, but hesitant to say so.

            The three men exchange glances.

            “Boss said no witnesses.” One of the others says, and River points his pistol at the men wearing suits.

            “Are you threatening an officer of the peace?” River snaps, and the other monsterborn hisses.

            “They’re mafia goons. They’ll kill both of us if you don’t shoot them.”

            River’s blood burns in his veins in sheer terror at those words. Mafias are deadly to get involved with. The Anti-Mafia Officers Regiment (A.M.O.R.) of Zayn City was wiped out four months ago in a massive gunfight. Not a single officer survived.

            The three men point their pistols at River and the other monsterborn, two trained on River, as he’s the obvious threat, and one trained on the other monsterborn. River really hopes his training will help him in this situation. But he doesn’t want to kill anyone. He’s still a pacifist regardless of the danger that poses to himself. An idea hits him. He aims the gun over the tallest mafia goon’s head and fires.

            That usually spooks monsters, but the mafia men aren’t impressed. The tallest barely flinches as the bullet flies over his head.

            “That’ll summon any monsters in the area. I’d recommend you get out of here, before-“ River is cut off as the three men laugh..

            Before River can react, the other monsterborn snatches his gun away, reloading as he ducks behind the tree beside River. The mafia goons fire, and River is yanked out of the crossfire behind the tree, as the other monsterborn begins firing back. A bullet lodges itself in River’s left shoulder before he can get behind the tree completely, and he cries out in pain.

            “I told you to shoot them!” The other monsterborn grits over the gunfire, before firing three rounds in rapid succession, hitting one goon in the chest, another in the stomach, and one in the head.

            “I’m a pacifist.” River groans and the other monsterborn glances at him in surprise.

            “You picked an unusual profession for a pacifist.”

            The silence that falls over the Wilds after the other monsterborn’s words is unbearable, but the pain from the bullet in River’s shoulder is worse. He clutches his shoulder, grinding his teeth together.The other monsterborn turns to him, red eyes looking him over.

            “They got your shoulder. Okay, I can work with this.” He mutters, leaning down to scoop River’s feet out from under him, to carry him.

            River allows the other monsterborn to carry him, expecting him to carry him back to the city’s gate. But instead, the other monsterborn carries him further into the Wilds.  He starts to protest, to say the Wilds aren’t safe, that they’re full of uncivilized monsters. But his pain cuts in, causing him to gasp it’s so intense.

            “You’re going to have to trust me with your life. The mafia will hunt you down and kill you if I take you back to the city gates.” The other monsterborn says, keeping his eyes away from River, who he’s carrying with ease, as though he were nothing more than a doll.

            A very tall doll. Being six feet and eleven inches tall is taller than pretty much everyone else, besides pure shadowmen, who can be up to eight feet tall. River has never met any pure shadowmen, or any other shadowmen-type monsters. He’d really like to though, before he dies.

            River opens his deep blue eyes and looks up at the other monsterborn, realizing his thoughts are getting hazy.

            “My name is River Alexander Smith.” He says, introducing himself, though his voice is slurred and his mind feels odd.

            “Save it. I don’t want to hear your name, or about your family. It just makes it harder for me if you don’t make it.”

            “I don’t have a family.” River mumbles.

            That seems to get the other monsterborn’s attention.

            “Wait, you don’t have a family? How were you raised by humans then?”

            “My mama was a single mother. She died when I was sixteen.” River replies, reciting the fact that he’s been forced to explain over and over again that he was raised by a human.

            “Monsterborn or human?”

            “I thought you didn’t want to know.” River groans.

.

            And then, River closes his eyes, feeling the pain and the darkness surging over him, as he allows unconsciousness to consume him. After a long time, he’s certain he’s dreaming as he listens to a familiar soft, higher-pitched voice converse with Teko Fleet’s deep, monotone voice in his mind, but he’s not convinced he wants to wake from the warm blanket feeling of darkness. He listens to the voices, too tired to open his eyes until a long time after the voices stop. And then when he opens his eyes, he finds himself with a green blanket draped over top of him, lying on a mattress. Sitting in a chair is someone he was certain he had lost.

            “Tom?”