It rained badly that night. A little boy curled into a balled position with his knees pulled up close to his chest, his arms wrapped around his knees and soft sniffles echoing around the cage of a room.
"Bla-bla-black sheep, have you any wool?" His timid voice resounding, triumphing over the sounds of low growling coming out from under his rikitty bed.
The air was cold, and the whispering sound of something cutting through the wind cooled the environment. Something slithered out of the bed, heading in the direction of the singing small boy.
"Yes sir, yes sir, three bags full." He added gently, sniffling through his red nose, and primordial maroon eyes that had the feeling of one who had seen through ages upon ages turned to the cold oddity slithering his direction.
