A young man laughed at the little girl that had fallen in his path. His dark green eyes preyed on her like she was a luscious slab of ribs. The man’s hair was drenched with the icy rain that had been crashing down in the small village for almost a month. He reached his dirt covered hand out to her and whispered, “Well…Hello, Petite Fleur. You seem a little frightened that I might find you here…”
The little girl looked up at the man and smiled. Her silvery eyes were quivered and held a light that showed fear. She pulled her long, wild hair to the side of her face as she stood up to meet his eyes at six-foot-three-inches. Her eyes lit up when she noticed that he had been wounded right above his hip. She gave a chuckle and struck the lesion with her elbow.