A/N: Alright, you know how the book kind of tells where Hornet came from? (or at least how she met Scipio?) Well forget EVERYTHING you read! This is my take on Hornet's introduction to the thief lord, straight out of my brain.

Disclaimer: I don't own the Thief Lord.

The streets of Venice were alive with color. Flowers spilled from tiny wooden window boxes, lightly perfuming the salty air. Vendors with souvenirs for the eager tourist paced the archways as the masses poured around them. It was the middle of July, a balmy morning, but not too warm. The peak of tourist season. A shout rang out from the usual city noises.

"Stop! Thief!" A rather overweight, grey haired food vendor pushed through the crowd. His prey was a small skinny girl with a long brown ponytail. She wore a large worn coat, with a ragged blouse and a skirt that had seen far better days beneath. Her feet were bare, in her haste to get away, she had shed the far-too-large loafers she had found. In her hand was a small package, the one the vendor worked so hard to retrieve.

She ducked around a closed up shop and darted away from a mounted police. Finally, when her lungs began to flame, she had lost the furious vendor. The girl stopped at the foot of a crumbling statue of a winged lion, shedding the coat that was far too heavy for summer. However, she kept it close; night could grow chilly in the streets. Unwrapping the pastry, she took a greedy mouthful.

The girl was 14 or 15, she wasn't sure, and she had no name. At least, one that mattered anyway. She knew she had one once. A long time ago, when she didn't steal her meals or slept outside. A wave of sadness she always felt was pushed aside by her growling stomach. She was pale for a Venetian, with a long dark brown pony tail and sparkling brown eyes. Her dark lashes were long, her chin stubborn.

With a last swallow, the pastry was gone. The girl stood, shouldering the coat. She walked down the lane, wondering what to do now. The library was nearby… If the girl was said to love anything, it was books. Anything she could lay her hands on, she savored. Not that she found much. The only books she could really get at were in the library, which she could only stay in for ten minutes before an attendant saw her and through her out. There was one book she had in her possession that she treasured. Tucked in her coat pocket, it was a battered old paperback, The Little Mermaid by Hans Christian Anderson; that had traveled with her since before she could remember.

Sighing, the girl looked up at the setting sun, as it cast an orangey pink glow on the channel's waters. She would have to find a place to spend the night. Her old place, a notch in one of the cathedrals, had been found out by on of the church guards, who had given her a good scare and chased after her late last night.

Twenty minutes later, she settled for the wedge between a bridge and a set of steps off a less-than-busy road. Stuffing herself in and curling up in her coat, the girl read a few long memorized pages of her book before drifting off to sleep.

A/N: I know, kinda slow, kinda short, but bear with me. By the way, just saw the movie (Yea there's a movie. Who knew?), and let me tell you! Scipio and Prosper are HOT! Tehe. Anyway feel free to press the nice button that says 'leave a review' or whatever. Peace out.