I don't know what I'm doing but this pdf will be useful

Did you know? A mountain chicken is a type of toad.

Here's a short little story since apparently small files aren't acceptable.

I'm not fluent either, so, my apologies.

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A gust of wind carrying the coldness of the atmosphere brushes past a certain white haired
boy, making him shiver. This young boy walked miles to the city, searching for help after the
tragedy that happened to his home, once a small village by the coast now engulfed in pure
flames. The boy had several burn marks on his body, and a sprained ankle, but he still
travels on his barefoot. Each step feels like stepping on needles, not even the snow cared to
give the boy any mercy. He couldn't muster up the strength to walk further, stumbling to the
concrete floor, just under the stone bridge. He curls up and hugs himself, trying to rest his
legs after hours of walking, but the harsh winter doesn't stop for anyone, especially not for a
nobody like this boy.

He sneezes, his body shaking and trembling from the cold. He sighs and curses the world
for taking away his home…. He yells profanities under his breath, his breathing forming
white clouds in the air. The young boy, though devastated and depressed, was determined
to at least find a shelter for himself. If he must sulk, he will sulk after he has shelter and food.
He gets up slowly, holding onto the wall behind him for support. But his legs give out and
tumble once more with a thud. The frustrated child hits his leg to vent out his frustration.
“Why… why can't you just move!” He lets out a groan and sighs. His eyes filled with sorrow.
He tries to get up again, but still, he fails, falling to the floor on his knees. He can barely
manage to hold in his tears at his own weakness. But the young boy was determined, he
doesn't want to sit here, complaining about how cruel life can be. He has to stay strong.
Once more, he holds onto the wall, and clings on the stone tiles with his fingertips, he slowly
stands up, gaining his balance. His face brightens as he successfully gets up again, but just
as he was about to start walking—

crash! The white haired boy groans in pain as he feels a force accidentally tackling him at full
speed, making his efforts to to waste as he tumbles to the floor face first. The young boy
holds his head and sits up, before turning his gaze to the mysterious figure that bumped into
him. The figure stands there, looking at him condescendingly. There stood a young boy
around his age, but with black hair and a purple split dye on his bangs, that covered his left
eye. His gaze was sharp, and dangerous, he did not seem like a child at all with that
expression. That was a face of someone that has seen unspeakable things in life, even with
his young age.

Just as the white haired boy was about to speak, he heard alarms from the distance and
turned his head to the direction of the sound. There are countless officers running towards
their direction, the officer in front speaks, “Stop right there, young man!” Seemingly talking to
the mysterious black haired boy. The black haired boy glances at the officers charging at
them, he makes a tsk sound, looking back at the confused bystander he crashed into a
moment ago.

“You're coming with me.” His voice stern and cold, very mature for someone his age. He
drags the white haired boy by his arm and pulls him up on his shoulder, carrying him on his
back as he starts sprinting away, gradually increasing the distance between them and the
officers. And the young boy that just needed food and warmth could tell, he was in for a big
mess of a day…..