FOOTSTEPS were nearly silent, moved like a ghost through the trees. you’d think with the weight of his frame he’d be louder, though he crept without a sound. was real GOOD AT THAT - sneaking around unnoticed. liked to follow people, liked to remain unseen. and what was she doing in HIS forest anyway? he didn’t like other people in the places he played.
in one hand he holds a stick, one that he’s sharpened the ends of to resemble a spear. he holds it up as if to threaten her, dirt caked to the sides of his legs where skin was bare beneath cut-off shorts. “ HEY! this is private property MISSY! what’re you doing here? ”