Suddenly, a dark-skinned, scrawny child of six or seven sprinted forward, and the others immediately followed suit.
However, an older child tackled the little one to the ground. The younger child's tender face smashed against a piece of hard armor. Blood streamed down his cheeks, but he paid it no mind; his eyes were entirely fixated on the half-eaten flatbread in his hand, desperately trying to stuff it into his clothes.
The older child pinned the little one down, immobilizing him, and reached out to snatch the blood-stained half flatbread. By then, the other children had caught up. Their eyes resembled those of ravenous wolves—ready to maul anyone who stood in their way.
Right as the group fought over the food, an old man suddenly rushed out and snatched the flatbread. The children could only watch helplessly as the old man devoured it in a few frantic bites. His eyes red, the little child glared at the old man with pure hatred.
