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I stood at the stairway leading to an old abandoned room. I thought to myself ‘should I enter, or should I leave while I still have the chance? I harnessed every morsel of courage in my now trembling self, walked up the stairs, and crept cautiously through the doorway ahead. Upon entering the room, I took note of the panoply of memorabilia which I could only identify as having belonged to the orphaned children who used to sleep here. I stopped and began staring vacantly through an open window, which was the only window, and indeed source of light, in the room.

A crepuscular ray pierced with intense immensity through the window; its light illuminating the millions of dust particles floating melancholically all around - they appeard like stars in an eternal Universe. Two pieces of what were once curtains blew precariously as the wind swept through the room. It enveloped my body, and for a moment, I mistook it for a poltergeist from a bygone age - the spirit of an orphaned child perhaps? An icy shiver slid down my spine, dissipating at my feet of jelly, causing the mottled wood to creak and crack underfoot as I walked further into the room...

A boy is what I saw! Well, his shadow that is. Yes I am certain of it. I can’t imagine it being anything other than the shadow of a boy, for it was too big to be that of a man or women, too broad to be that of a girl, and certainly too human to be that of any animal I have seen. And I should also add that I was quite the huntsman in my youth, having won many a prize for my taming expertise in not only this county, but the Northern counties, where the men are known for being a tad more rugged around the edges, which gave them a distinct advantage in the great outdoors.

In fact, speaking of which, do you remember my good friend Sven?

Who... Who are you? I said cautiously.

I am sure he had once told me that he was born in Spool, the most Northern county of them all. When he and I went hunting in the forests behind our house, we would compete against each other, by which we would time ourselves. It went something along the lines of ‘whoever should tame the largest Pheasant, Fox or even sometimes small Gruth Bear, would have first pickings on which of Thane’s prize winning horse they would choose to breed their runts with’. It was to poor Sven’s disappointment that I won 9 times out of 10!

Despite his admiring my hunting prowess, many a time would he chip in with a jealous remark about the money those thoroughbreds made for me, which I remember at the time was a small fortune. Oh! It would seem that I am digressing… Please do excuse me, for your coming to my small cottage here has been something of a surprise. Never have I been visited by such a handsome young buck such as yourself, well not since my wife passed on that is. Her family and I were always very distant by virtue of our differing opinions on the ethics of hunting amongst other things of course.

Ah! And I digress once again. Please do forgive me! The shadow. I have already told you. I am sure it was a boy’s shadow, and you can trust in my word. After all, I was a top notch hunter in my time… Oh? That is all? Well if you do find yourself wanting to talk – it doesn’t have to be about my hunting, it can be about Thane’s hunting, Sven’s hunting or the hunting of my old friend Roger. In fact, it doesn’t have to be about hunting at all! I’ll have you know I’m also a fine fisherman and ornithologist. Did you know I was the first person to find the Australus Finch? No? Well, I’m always here should you wish to...! Farewell friend!

I ran out of the room as fast as my stout legs carried me.

'Who is he? Is he dangerous? A shadow of a boy? Are children still living here? Surely the rumours are not true?

These were the questions churning my mind into a clotted manure of despair, panic and irrationality.