Well well well. I've started writing a little. Shall see how much this takes off.

This chapter has been altered and slightly rewritten. A re-read is recommended.

Enjoy!

Chapter One: Stew

"Is it nice?"

Kratos spun on his heels - why hadn't he heard anyone in the room?! The building had looked to be empty; derelict. Cursing himself; he faced the intruder - hand on the hilt of his sword, ready to draw. The doorway was empty, and in the low light cast by the small cooking fire, no presence was apparent. Jilted, Kratos looked to the shadows, spotting movement in the far corner. It was only a child; so he relaxed, letting out a breath he hadn't realised he'd been holding. Just a child, nothing to worry about.

The child looked at him imploringly from where he sat, legs folded and half lidded eyes uneasily inspecting the seraph. It was evident that in his weariness, he hadn't even noticed the child sitting there on the floor, where it was evident he had sat all along. The flickers of amber from the fire highlighted gaunt cheeks. large maroon eyes and thin pale lips. The child was sat against the wall, and for a moment Kratos could not tell if it was male or female, it was too dark to tell. Once his eyes were again use to the imploring darkness, he found it was a boy, sitting in a pile of paper and old rags strewn across his knees to keep warm. Brown riled hair tickled his neck and he stared at the older man with a nervous smile on his pale face.

"What are you doing here?" Kratos demanded; perhaps a little too sharply, for the smile disappeared and the boy looked somewhat alarmed. Without the silly little grin, the boy lost his youthful look, his face was thin, no trace of puppy fat or chubbiness and a wariness in his eyes that looks too old and too familiar for such a young face.

"You gonna hurt me...?" The boy asked a little fearfully - beginning to stand up stiffly.

Kratos frowned at the question - and shook his head. "No - of course not. But what are you doing here?"

The small chest swelled - and the grin tentatively returned. "It's my house."

With a critical brow; Kratos observed the "house". There really was only one small room left - and he was standing in it. The rest had long since collapsed. The room was damp; and infested with bugs - but he was only stopping for one night to get out of the rain and cold. It was well hidden, situated far from any villages and the human ranch, deep in the woods where no normal person would go.

"Where's your parents?" Kratos asked. The boy was no threat, and so he turned back to him and began to see to the old pot that contained his dinner. The meaty aroma had begun to fill the room reminding his once fully human stomach that he still needed nourishment from time to time.

"Dunno." There was a quick scrambling, and then the boy was kneeling next to him - his eyes also on the pot. Kratos groaned - there was barely enough for himself and from the wide eyed expression on the boy's face he could see a mile off where this was going. "You have food?" The boy asked, lifting the lip from the pot to take a sniff. His eyes widened, and he swallowed before putting the lid back on the pot guiltily.

"Obviously."

He could hear the boy licking his lips. "What is it?"

"Stew." Kratos replied simply. Sitting back on his hunches. The urge to rub his temples to chase away the oncoming headache was almost unbarable.

"What's that?"

"Everything thrown into a pot.. and stewed." There was a sharpened, annoyed tone to his voice – usually meaning to warn who ever he was talking to. It wasn't working and the warning fell on deaf ears and a more than likely hungry stomach.

"Is it nice? I don't think I've had that before."

Kratos sighed; and lifted the lid - despairing at the meagre amounts he had been able to make. There went dinner. He didn't really have to eat as much as humans or as often - but it was a nice distraction and he was beginning to feel the ebb of hunger.

"I suppose it is."

The boy peered over the pot; and frowned. "You don't seem to have much... cant you make more?"

Kratos shook his head - "I don't have any more food until I stop by Iselia tomorrow."

"Why you stopping by there?"

"Why wouldn't I? It's the only village for miles."

"It's not nice. People there ain't nice. You should stay here instead."

Kratos snorted; and pulled out a bowl from his bag - filling it with the stew. He didnt take well to scroungers. "Hardly."

The boy "hmed", and lifted the lid again. It didn't go unnoticed that he liked his lips, nor that his eyes were filled with a hungry wanting. "You ain't gonna eat ALL of that are you?

"Yes."

"ALL of it? Not even going to leave a bite..." He whined.

"No."

"Half a bite... a lick?"

He knew where this was going; and was too tired for it. "Get your own."

"I can't tonight! Don't you know how to share... Can I just try some?" He trailed off with a pitiful whine, looking towards Kratos with a dopey, hopeful look that reminded the mercenary of a kicked puppy.

And this was where he gave in - handing the bowl to the salivating boy who was already nearly on top of him. The child mewled and before the bowl had even fully been handed it was snatched from his hands. Clearly manners were lost on the boy.

Kratos shook his head and drowned out happy chewing sounds by listening to the rain pelt the roof. It occupied his time for a few moments, before he felt compelled to observe where his dinner had gone.

Damn - the child was licking the bowl! "That's disgusting, we're you brought up with the pigs and cattle?"

To give the boy his dues, he paused for all of a second to give the angel a shit-eating grin before he continued his task of making sure every morsel of food had been cleaned away. The wooden bowl clattered to the floor when he had finished.

"Thanks!" That grin was back, and Kratos found himself staring into a pair of expectant, honey brown eyes.

"Hn, disgusting." He finally offered, tearing his gaze away and packing away the used utensils. He was unnerved by the child's gaze which seemed to follow his every moment. It felt at that moment that he had made some sort of mistake in sharing his food. Briefly he remembered a warning he had received many a moon ago in which he was told not to feed a stray cat lest it follow him home.

Kratos huffed; and searched out his bed mat - rolling it besides the fire and crawling into it's warmth. It was unlikely that he'd sleep - but he was warm and dry and until the oracle appeared to the Chosen that was all that mattered.

"H-hey... It's really cold in here - do you have any more blankets?"

The boy was a chancer - he'd give him that. "No."

He heard a shuffling next to him; and the boy scooted closer. "What's your name?"

Kratos grunted; and turned so his back was to the boy. There was a pounding in his temples, thousands of years and still he could not stand idle chit chat.

Apparently the boy didn't take hints. "Don't you have a name? Everyone has a name. If you don't have one, we can think of one for you? I won't tell anyone you didn't have one before, we can just pretend you've always had one -"

Kratos groaned. "For the love of the Goddess... can't you be quiet?"

The boy fell silent.

For all of a minute. "... What's you name? You cant NOT have a name."

"... Kratos."

"Kratos? That's funny to say. Krah-tos. Kr-ah-ah-ah-tos."

He sighed - and pulled the blanket over his head - drowning out the tinny voice above him. Next time he'd sleep out in the rain, seeking shelter never seemed to be worth it.

"Aren't you going to ask my name? I have one."

"No. Go to sleep."

It was going to be a long night.

AN: Well there we have it. I've altered what I could. It's been some years since I first wrote this and to be honest I cringed at the re-read. The following few chapters will get sorted soon. Let me know what you think.