We wouldn't let him go into the woods, not alone, and not so unprepared. Rain and fog made the endeavor even more undesirable, but we saw and feared that look in his eyes, and we understood. So together we pulled his skin and stifled his cries, and bound him in fresh leathers made of his flesh and and grief. Together we armed him with knowledge and stole his senses, his eyes finding a new home in golden syrup. We let him go, and as he shuffled into the darkness we knew he'd never return. The woods were secretive and unforgiving.