rockie-squirrel

We're the Ferals. Born on the street ... or worse; in the public hospitals. The Citizens play gods with us. They try to weaponize us. And if any of us turn out to have a marketable (ie dangerous) talent, then we get a ticket to citizenship, if we survive processing. Risky, but better than life as a Feral. Me, all I could do was find stuff, and read people. People's intentions hang around them like a cloud of smoke that only I could smell. I could hear them worry like they were talking out loud. But that was before my real powers kicked in. The ones that scare me. The ones that got their attention.