The Little Inabitant

As we look up at the pine tree, there does not appear to be any creatures or person lurking. Nothing in sight. " Where could they have gone?" Olivia asks. I shrug. Just as we begin to walk away, a small boy, about nine plops plops down from the sky. He looks feral with his long, wild, shoulder length hair, and loin cloth. He snarls at us. "Is this your tree?" Olivia asks him sweetly. He does not respond. Instead, he reveals a sharpened stick from the pocket in his loin cloth. Olivia and I back away. "Easy, we don't mean any harm." I say. "Where are the parents?" Olivia wonders. "I don't know and I'm having reservations about attacking a child." Olivia looks at me. "We're not exactly in society now. We have to survive."