Khiriq was wandering for the streets, absolutely unconscious of the shadow following him. He had 2 fingers in his mouth, drool trickling down his arm up to his elbow, a fizzling breathing sound coming from him.
I do wonder how whistling works. People just do that, why doesn't it work. Storms! he thought.
A finger tapped his left shoulder, and he turned half-way through a new attempt at whistling. In front of him was standing a men, well it looked like a man, clad in black clothes and holding a dagger in his right hand. His left hand's motion clearly mimicked to consign him anything of value, or... Or, well, Khiriq was at the moment too busy to stop, and drool sprayed all over the thief's upper body.
Startled by the realization it might not have been a good idea being too busy, he tried again. This time a faint whistle came from him. At the same time he motioned to his pocket to get his little money bag to give to the thief.
"I'm... I'm sorry..." he tentatively whispered in a loud, clear, and very scared high-pitched voice.
The thief glared at the whistling boy, disgust and contempt in his eyes. He snatched the bag, and ran away in the closest alley. The boy's cry had attracted attention.
Realizing this, Khiriq too ran away. No one wants to attract attention in the middle of riot, if you're not armed. Besides, a wonderful smell was coming from a house nearby, and he wondered if he couldn't beg for some food. Maybe he could try to make a whistling show!
Before turning the corner, he was back with 2 fingers in his mouth.