Given the collar I was wearing, the mans demands were beginning to make sense. He wanted me to pretend to be an animal. His skin was ice cold and made...my hair stand on end, but I resisted the urge to shy away from his touch. The safest thing to do was play along and hope he allowed me to live. He pet me for a while, his gaze focused on nothing in particular. It was an odd feeling to be treated like a pet, but I preferred it to the pain that would undoubtedly have followed a refusal to play. One day -- it being too early in the spring to plant, and yet pleasant enough to tarry out of doors -- Carlo was sitting on a stool outside his little shack, watching the clouds roll past the small opening in the trees that surrounded him, when a bit of movement captured his eye, and he, looking at it, rubbed them for a moment. An angel! Or so it appeared, for as the vision drew nearer he could see that it had something of the manner of a human, in a robe, but truly there were wings, for it was. More

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