Grasshopper snorted. He didn’t need them. They were boring. They thought he was an idiot. They thought he was just a kid, only good at being a pyromaniac. Well, even if he was a pyromaniac, he could do other stuff, too.

He stopped in the gathering mud at the edge of the rainforest. The rain slopped his hair down in front of his eyes. He sighed. Then grunted. Then sighed again. Suddenly, he felt a cold tear drip down his face against the rain. He was furious at himself. I don’t need them! I don’t need them! He thought it until he was yelling it. “I don’t need them!” He slapped himself. That only made the tears come harder.

~

The Caretaker filled the room with his dark presence, blotting out the moon with his silhouette. He looked down at the small figure walking away from the tiny firelight at the edge of the forest.

“Hop to me, little buggy. Hop to me.” His voice, though deadly silky, filled the room like a wicked white noise.