Was this the right street? It had been half an hour since he'd last wondered that, and he hadn't inched any closer to the answer.

Malachi never minded a chance to go out and wander the streets of Whitby. He loved learning about the places he lived, of course, but some of these streets were so winding that he struggled to find his way. He had already told Mrs. Higgins earlier that he would fetch the things she needed from the shop, though, and he was not about to turn around.

He walked leisurely, hands hidden away in his pockets. What appeared to be the fading edge of a bruise peeked above his collar.

(He'd been hiding it well enough with a blanket thrown over his shoulders, in the presbytery. Out here, he didn't bother, and no one noticed much.)

He was about to turn off and try his luck on another street when a cart caught his eye, maybe twenty feet ahead. Were those... children in the cart? Abandoning his plan, Malachi approached them, brows drawn together in concern.

"Hello," he greeted once he'd neared the cart, voice kept as soft as he could manage. "Are you here alone?"