He had the face of an angle but something behind those blue eyes told me to run and sent a chill down my back. Maybe that's what he wanted but as much as I needed to run I couldn't. Even if I die I still can't leave him I could feel his pain and sadness I had to have him to myself I had to save him. So I looked back at my house one last time and jumped the fence and we ran, ran as fast and far as we could go in the night.
I remembered him well. He would sit for hours on end, entertaining the children who passed by creating little hummingbirds and butterflies that would flit around the children, making them squeel with laughter and the parents smile. I looked at that empty crate for a long time, knowing the Silver-haired man would never again sit there, creating music with the laughter of children.