The sun was high over Ogre Rock, peering down past a few wispy, wind chased clouds. The late summer breeze rippled waves across the forest leaves, tossing waves on a sea of green. The short grass and gravel crunched under the boys black boots, mixing with the rustling of dried leaves. The boy hummed a happy tune, smiling as he twirled his seven inch, three fanged hunting knife.
I had always loved Gloria, since i had first noticed her in church, a lovely young girl from the farmlands across the river. It was unbecoming of a young man such as myself to make advances on young girls. I had contented myself to speaking plainly to her, discussing the current events of the town, the state of the farmers crops, and the warm windswept summer. I would bide my time, i though, and endear myself to her, that she might welcome my advances upon our reaching the appropriate age.It was thoughts such as this that warmed me as i strode the evening lanes to the home of my friend, a fine young man named Fr