The Thief [Mature/Male needed]

Life as a commoner was difficult, especially when one was female and had no family, no husband, and no way to earn money. Aoife wasn’t good at most things, she couldn't cook, she couldn't sew, she couldn't do any of the things women were supposed to do. She had been a servant a few times, but she was always kicked out because the wives’ got jealous when their husband’s made moves on her, or looked at her wrong. Her dark hair was curly and reached her lower back, her eyes were brown, and her face freckled. Because she was pretty, she couldn't get a job as a servant or serving girl. Aoife resorted to the only thing she knew how to do, thievery. Survival was all that mattered to her.

Aoife moved quickly, and stole from someone a piece of bread. But she wasn't quick enough, because she was caught. Her eyes widened as she was grabbed and forced to face her captor. “Thief,” he growled at her. “You’ll pay for that.” She stared up at him before narrowing her eyes and stepping on his foot, hard. He growled in pain, his grip loosening on her. The moment she felt the grip loosen, she spun on her heel and bolted. The thief ran as fast as she could go, fear gripped her, nearly suffocating her. If she was caught, she could lose her hand, or be sent to jail. There was no way she could survive either, both punishments would be worse than death.