Hey, 
Anzius here! So I specifically am worried about my world building (environs) and my dialogue. I ran this through my friend already, and he specifically told me to concentrate on my world building as it was lacking (this is the edited version), but with the dialogue I feel like it isn't realistic. It feels forced, but I don't really know how to tweak it. If you have any advice on that it would ge greatly appreciated! 
Any other advice concerning the contents, grammar, spelling etc. Is very welcome, thanks in advance for anyone taking the time to read this, much appreciated! 

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I

Ansgar’s bark sandals, slapped on the sand covered stone street as he ran between the colorful trading huts and merchant stalls, where townspeople and travelers were haggling and debating prices in loud voices. An occasional foreign Northern Kingdom soldier could be seen soliciting goods from the huts offering more specialized services, the soldiers had arrived with their lord captain a few days earlier and were preparing to cross the desert. Town guards kept a leisurely watch over the area, and could be seen hanging about drinking Ayjew, an alcoholic beverage made by fermenting goat’s milk and sugarcane, mixing it with mint leaves and other herbs, leaving the drink with a creamy green look and a sweet and thick texture. The shadows cast by the surrounding structures kept Ansgar safe from both the scalding sun and prying eyes, and he was confident that the guards would be too drunk to give chase. He whipped a look behind him to see if he was being followed, but he saw no one in the jungle of fabric and people, that was the street of traders. He soon turned another corner before stopping in-between two huts and allowed himself a brief breath. He could hear faint whispers from the hut to his left, something about secret potions, which would surely keep a man going for hours. Ansgar snorted at that, someone is getting cheated out of their money again, He thought.

He peeked around the corner to look at the stream of people going about their daily businesses. Two men appeared in his vision, enraged and tired from running.Ansgar pulled his head back before they could see him, and put his hand into the pocket of his ragged pants where to his satisfaction, he felt that the loaf of stolen dark bread was still intact. It was a precious piece, made from the dark plant that grew in the Northern Kingdom, a scarce and rare commodity in Yaelon’dor, The Desert’s end. He turned to continue running but hit something that felt like a wall and he fell onto the ground arse first. As the wall cast it’s grumbling shadow over him Ansgar came to the painful realization, that it wasn’t a wall of stone and rock he had ran into, but one made of flesh and bone. This can’t be good, he thought. He looked up to see a familiar figure looming over him and gasped in dismay. I’d have rather hit a wall.

“What do you have in your pocket drazi?” The larger boy spat the last word. In front of Ansgar stood Yaman an Shura, or as every other street urchin had become to call him: the desert ox. True to his name Yaman stood larger than most adult men and had arms as thick as tree trunks at the ripe age of fifteen. He held a tight grip on the comings and goings on his territory and tolerated no mischief other than what he himself orchestrated. There was no love lost between Yaman and Ansgar, not least because Ansgar had a bad habit of transgressing on the Ox’s turf from time to time. The desert ox eyed Ansgar before hauling him up by the shoulder. “I asked you. What do you have in your pocket?”

Ansgar looked at him fear clouding his mind. “Yaman, I have nothing. I swear by Ans.”

Yaman shook him hard and shouted at him “You think I wouldn’t notice when Andhas’s stall started hiring guards? Huh! You didn’t think I’d notice that there’s been an awful lot of people looking for someone who sounds just like you? Ay, drazi!” He spat at Ansgar’s face. “You take me for a fool? Give to me what you stole and I’ll let you off with a beating.”

Ansgar tried to blink the spit away from his eyes, his shame was multiplied by the blood rushing to his face, although it was hardly visible on his copper skin while they stood in the shadows. Yaman grabbed him by the throat and threw him back to the ground. Ansgar coughed hard and wiped the spittle of his eyes. His vision returned just as Yaman’s foot connected with his face. He felt a tooth loosen and gave a helpless yelp as he was thrown across the ground.

Yaman came and knelt next to Ansgar and put his hand in Ansgar’s pocket.

“If you ain’t giving it to me, I’ll just take it.”

Ansgar looked helplessly as the bigger boy took the loaf of bread and eyed it with keen interest.

“Rye,” Yaman said lost in his thoughts, no doubt calculating how much money he could get by selling it. He smiled, “This here is too good for the likes of you, drazi,” he said, his smile was menacing.

Yaman turned to leave. Ansgar began to stand up, his legs wobbled a little but he was able to keep his balance by leaning to the wall. He stared at Yaman’s back after he felt comfortable standing and picked up a stone from the ground. Shame and anger raced through his mind when he lifted his hand. Ansgar was about to throw when there came a rustle from atop of one of the huts and an object flew through the air and hit Yaman in the head. Yaman cried out in surprise and pain and a red stream begun immediately pouring from the back of his neck. Ansgar dropped his own stone and ran towards the desert ox. He grabbed his bread from Yaman’s hand and sped past the bully while he was still stunned.

Fueled by fear and desperation Ansgar pushed his feet to move fast. His legs were a blur as he ran. He heard Yaman curse behind him and then there was the sound of heavy feet stomping the ground with increasing speed. Ansgar didn’t have to look to know that Yaman was chasing him.
Although Ansgar was confident in his speed, but he was tired and Yaman had longer legs, so it was only a matter of time before he was caught.

He turned another corner to the left, he tried moving unpredictably through the various stalls and huts, but the stomps were coming closer.
“Stop you damn drazi!” Yaman screamed.

Ansgar didn’t dare stop, he knew Yaman would kill him this time, he was sure of it.
He turned to the right when he heard a whistle from above him. A face was peering down atop of one of the huts.

None of its characteristics could be made out though as the sun shone from behind casting shadows on the face. Nonetheless Ansgar knew exactly who that whistle belonged to.

“Salman!” Ansgar cried. He could imagine his friend smirking his signature devilish smirk, although he couldn’t see it on his face.

“Ansgar, grab my hand before that oaf sees us,” Salman said. Ansgar follow orders and jumped to grab his hand. Salman caught his grip and pulled Ansgar up. Right after he got to the clay roof he heard the stomps turn the corner and stop.

“Drazi!” Yaman shouted. “Come here!”

Ansgar held his breath. He knew the older boy could climb the wall if he knew they were hiding from him there.

“You damn desert shit!” Yaman screamed, “Come out you bastard!” Ansgar felt a sharp pain at the last one, the shame of being a bastard. He had no name because as he had no father. There was no greater shame.

Salman tucked at his pants and pointed at the other side of the roof. “Let’s leave,” he whispered.

Ansgar nodded and followed his friend. They descended on the opposite side and ran for it.

**********

Salman could hardly contain his laughter as the two boys drifted through the shadows. “That stupid ox didn’t know what hit him!” His grin was wide and merry.

“Yah, but he’ll want our skins for this,” Ansgar answered warily. He reserved from sharing in his friends merriment.

“Bah! Let him!” Salman spat. “He’d have to catch us first. That oaf couldn’t catch the plague even if he rolled with the bodies in mur an malaga.”

Ansgar stopped and Salman bumped into his rear. Ansgar turned to look his friend in the eyes, and Salman quickly blushed and averted his eyes to the ground “I didn’t…” Ansgar stopped him with a shake of his head, and turned. They continued their way in silence.

When Ansgar’s home came into view they shared the bread Ansgar had stolen and Salman bid him farewell. Ansgar’s home was hidden from view by larger buildings, and could be found in a secluded alleyway, surrounded by other similar dirty apartments. Ansgar hurried up the stairs to the door and pushed it open. A flock of drazi scattered as the door flew ajar, each one scurried to the nearest hole they could find, leaving only some of their yellowish brown fur behind. He could hear the sound of stumbling from the bedroom, before a half-naked man carrying his guard’s uniform over his arm appeared from the doorway, visibly drunk. The man had slim eyebrows over sunken, snakelike eyes. His face was angular, with sharp features. His copper skin glistened from sweat, that flowed down over a scar, about 6 joints long which covered his right flank. He noticed Ansgar and his mouth grew into a disgusting smile. “Aye, if yer looking fer yer mom she’s in ‘ere.” He said, “Gave ‘er a good working, yah!” He followed with a pelvic thrust to emphasize his point.

“I’ll leave the money with the boy on my way out!” He called back into the bedroom, where a feminine voice answered in agreement.