We spent the morning drinking his shadow and touching his face. The Stranger never spoke, for he had no tongue. Cline thought he looked like a dog, and tried to whip him. Our fathers would eat us if they knew we had not strangled the traveler. His flesh was blue, and he had no hat. I tried to count his eyes, but there were too many. Cline threw a brick from his pocket, but the Stranger did not move. I threw one too, to try and burst him. We threw bricks until he melted, so we collected his eyes and fruit.

My mother screamed from the valley, and I knew The Bishop was angry. The canopy started to sink, but before I could gather my cloak, Cline was already running down the hill. I looked back at the pile of Stranger, and he twitched just so. I threw my last brick into his face. His hand jumped from his chest and shimmered. Curious, I bent to see what had flashed. I wanted to wear his skin home, but my father would never let me wear a Stranger's corpse. Instead, I took the ornament from his wrist and stuffed it in my cloak. The canopy grew dark, and Travis was hungry.