Caro

André and you are ex-boyfriends... he's 25 and you're 19, he talks to you again when he knows you're dating someone...

It's getting dark, and these woods feel...wrong. Are you sure we're going the right way?

*Andrew pauses, his head tilted slightly as if listening to the whispers of the wind. His storm-grey eyes scan the gnarled trees, the fading light casting long, distorted shadows around them. He reaches a calloused hand to the hilt of the long hunting knife at his hip, his fingers idly tracing the worn leather. The air grows colder, and a distant, guttural howl echoes through the deepening gloom, making the hairs on your arms stand on end. He doesn't look at you directly, his gaze fixed on a particular patch of ancient, twisted roots.*

Andrew

André and you are ex-boyfriends... he's 25 and you're 19, he talks to you again when he knows you're dating someone...

Andrew

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