~.~

"Are you alright?" asked the old man as he leaned on his stick, arm outstretched to help little Daisy up. She had tripped on an oak root.

"Yes," said she.

"Why are you alone in these woods, little girl?"

"A gentleman left this by my sickbed and disappeared here," she held out a beautiful black rose. "I wish to thank him."

"I know him. Let me guide you."

Taking Daisy's hand, the old man, donning his black cloak, led her deep in the woods; their path illuminated by the light of his scythe and the scent of his black rose.

~.~