A spider’s web, wet with morning dew…
Like a vale that hides your true face…
“Hoheo taralna, rondero tarel.”
I peeked around the tree to the small boy with blonde hair. He had had lovely eyes filled with pain.
He was beautiful, filled with youth and purity. Why had this little one called me?
I went forward to him but was shoved back by a shadow. In moments the darkness surrounded the boy.
“What is your wish?” asked the shadow.
I shook my head and my wings quivered.
No. No, not again.
