II

"Soft, woolen lamb upon the pasture roam.

With innocent heart unspoiled by life's cruel, cold foam.

I lent her my palms and she gave me her hand.

I brought her out of her flock and she did not bat an eye."

With each synchronizing step, the two moved further away—and away from the lands of the village, their footsteps taking them up into the gently sloping hills—The child halted in her tracks, turning to look back at her home, now a mere distant point in the landscape. The laughter and laughter of the children faded into silence—the chimes and chit-chat of adults were faded—replaced by the rustling leaves and sighing breeze of the forest.

The fog within the forest dances slowly, up and down—whistling at them both in a soothing manner as if its luring them with its smell. Even shadows are obscured by its mist—And light, could not even come through because the forest is tainted with countless leaves that the sun—could not even gleam its greenery with its radiant shine.

The child glared at the demon with a concerned look, who was holding her tiny hand—She uttered to him as she slightly gripped his knuckles with her little hands,

"Mama said I am not allowed to go far away from the house."

The demon's large hand moved to the top of the child's head—his fingers gently running through her soft hair, leaving a trail of light caresses as he teased and tickled her little strands with feather-like motions—As he spoke, his gaze remained fixed upon the thicket of trees that stretched out before them—he replied to her yet again with a calm utter,

"Only when you are alone, but you are not alone."

The child, her heart filled with a hint of fear and intrigue—could not tear her gaze away from the forest that loomed before her—She was staring at it, and it stared back—There was a sense of unease in the back of her mind, a feeling that the dense greenery was staring back at her anew watching her every move—With a trembling voice, she spoke softly, her words laced with a hint of concern,

"But the forest is so creepy, I'm scared."

The demon moved his palms away from the child's hair—holding her head so lightly, but the child felt it rough—He spoke with ease of serenity, like a whisper—but with a hash sound,

"I am scared too. The forest is filled with bears, but we should not be afraid no more, because we have each other, would you help a friend out?"

The child looked at the demon again—her small hands grasped tightly at the demon's palms as she kept glaring at the abyss of the forest's mist—She replied, it took her a while to utter her words,

"There is nothing to play there. And I heard others like me are gone missing after stepping into the forest."

The demon, standing still like a statue—his eyes locked with the child's—responded coolly to her soft utterance—His voice, deep and measured,

"Tittle-tattle, those missing children often have brave spirits to enter the forest and venture into the other world. Some are pungent and sometimes bland."

The demon's stomach growled slightly—He caressed it and touched the back of the child's head and before the demon could speak—the child spoke first—She noticed the growl of his stomach and blurted out a question—filled with both surprise and concern,

"Are you hungry, friend?"

The demon—his hand still rubbed his stomach—spoke in a soft and deep, rumbling voice,

"Yes. but it is a good thing because it makes it even more fun if you think about it. The sense of being hungry, hungry for food, hungry for fun. Now I do not even know which one's true."

The demon's palms, large and calloused—slowly extended towards the child's small, soft hand, encircling it gently in a firm grip. It was neither too tight nor too loose—He replied to the child, with a soothing calm utter,

"Now, we must make the best of it until dawn falls, and I promise, it will be fun."

The child raised her hand—her small fist clenched tight, save for the tiny raised pinky—She adorably said to him,

"Pinky promise?"

The demon reciprocated by extending his own pinky finger—locking it with the child's.—The demon looked down at the child and spoke,

"Pinky promise."

And with that, the two finally stepped foot into the forest and pushed past the bushes that marked the entrance to it—around them was enveloped in a thick haze—but thankfully, the path they traversed was somewhat clearer—allowing them to see more and venture further into the dense foliage—After an eerie silence, the child broke the tension and said, holding the demon's palms so tightly,

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"Should we play hide-and-seek here?"

The demon replied—still walking and holding the child's little hands,

"If only we could, but I could not really see you. We should play a more, fun game."

The demon continued his musings—glaring at each foliage of the trees,

"It's called, 'helping'. It is much more fun and also gives you a very great lesson, lessons that those who know of, ignore of it.

The child uttered—Her gaze flickered from one side of the path to the other,

"But there is no one to help here."

The demon responded—shifted his gaze beneath the ground,

"Everyone needs a little help sometimes in their lives, even if they don't need it. A tree wouldn't grow without a drip of water, even if it doesn't ask to, it still needs it."

The child only said and stared at the demon—her little head couldn't even get to see the full portrait of the demon's face,

"They do?"

The demon, his pace unwavering, continued walking along the forest path—firmly holding onto the child's little hand—The child added as she stared behind her—her home no longer be seen as it was covered by the fog,

"Where are we going, friend? I think we are so far from the house."

The demon replied—he halted his tracks for a while and spoke to the child—with a slight poetic tone in the words he breathed,

"Nowhere, we are just venturing to find creatures that need our help, it could be far, or near. Could be there, or here."

The demon then grabbed his pockets and checked his notes—Then he brought it back to his patch again and said,

"If you do not want to do it anymore, we could just return back."

The child did not speak for a while—she kept staring behind her and looked at the demon adorably—her eyes widening and then clasped her little hands,

"But we are already far away from the house."

After a serene silence, the child heard a noise—some sort of a rhyme, a critter's noise, 'baa, baa' from afar away—obscured by the fog—The demon, standing next to the child shifted his eyes to the noise, that was crying for help—He spoke as he pointed where the noise materialized from,

"Speak of the devil. Someone needs our help."

The child replied—she began to tuck her hands very firmly in the demon's leg—As if she is hugging a tree's trunk,

"But where is it?"

The demon caressed the child's head—providing a soothing suggestion,

"We could go where it came from."

And so did the two step foot far more away—coming from the source of the noise, as they venture deep and deeper through the forest—the winds breeze like a windmill's force, with a hint of the same noise—beginning to be louder and louder.

Eventually—they spotted a little, soft and woolen lamb—both of its legs were folded in the middle of the unknownity of the forest, lying beneath the greenery—It kept bleating and bleating, calling for its mother, crying for help as the winds blow through its fur—making it slightly tremble from either of fear, or the cold. Perhaps, it's both.

The demon said to the child and pointed at the little lamb—which also made the lamb notice their presence and it bleated louder and louder,

"A lamb, lost from its flock in the middle of a breezing forest. It is too cold for its fur to protect it."

The child uttered—her voice is tainted with curiosity and also a hint of fear in her,

"Where is her mother? Isn't her fur for the cold?"

The demon replied—gesturing his arms for the child to approach the little lamb,

"Well, its mother could not save it for now, nor its fur. How about we lend it a hand?"

The lamb keeps bleating—its fur fuzzling in the wind's air—The child hesitated to approach the little lamb and said to the demon,

"How? I am not allowed to put animals in my house or keep it."

The demon looked around in the forest—the view was obscured by its mist. Perhaps, any threat could lunge towards them and eat them—He then spoke to the child,

"We cannot let it stay here or it'll be eaten by the bears or wolves, lurking in the forest's world."

The child also looked around—she gasped and pointed her little fingers to the left—There in the area—was a huge cave, its chambers covered by gray rocks—skirted by shadows—but blocking the wind's flowing breeze—She exclaimed as she wiggled her little arms,

"There, is a cave. Maybe he will help the lamb?"

The demon then began to caress the child's little hair—and then patted it which affectionately made the child relax—He congratulated the child,

"What a good idea, little one."

The child slowly approached the little lamb—she held her tightly—her cloth girdling at the lamb's fur—She then gazed at the demon and showed him the lamb—as she caressed the cold fur of the lamb's—Her little arms hinting a slight struggle at lifting the lamb.

The two set foot to enter the entrance of the cave—the child, still holding the lamb—no longer bleated, the lamb had a relaxing and calm behavior, showing no signs of resist—The child slowly and carefully placed the little lamb inside the cave like its an artifact—unscathed—She said as she placed the lamb—she felt great adorableness on the little lamb,

"What should we do now?"

The demon patted the child's head anew, And observed the chambers of the cave—The cave was small—it felt like it was just a temporary home for animals in its domain—But it still served as a temporary shelter for the little lamb, and those who need it—The demon spoke as he looked upon the child,

"Its mother will just find it, like how every mother is. the good thing is, is that it is safe from the dangers and the cold. You did a great job."

The child slowly dropped to her knees and petted the little lamb—She gave her a fuzzling and adorable bleat as an exchange for the little child's petting. Its furry head scratching on the little child's tiny hands—The child giggled so lightheartedly and looked at the demon and said,

"I think she likes me!"

The demon replied back—His hands clasped behind him, and with a tone of serenity in it, like a stoic being—never showed a face,

"Of course, they do."

He then caressed his palms on the little child's shoulders—And said to her ear—while she was still staring at the lamb,

"Let us venture more, little one. Time's ticking, and it does not wait for us."

The child glared at the lamb for a while—and the lamb reciprocated and it gave a last 'baa' on the little child and the demon as they both walked away from the cave—Back on the path, the atmosphere shifted as the fog grew denser around them—swirling and billowing like a storm on the horizon—With each step, the visibility became more obscured—making it harder to see what lay ahead.