He wasn't supposed to be there. His father had warned him to stay away from the man in the long cape. But when he'd heard the crackling of pebbles outside his window, he couldn't stop himself from listening. Then he couldn't stop himself from crawling out the window. Or from following the man down the dark street and into the forest. When he disappeared into the mouth of the cave deep in the forest, Florian told himself to go home. Unfortunately, he wasn't one to listen to reason—even if it came from his own conscience. On tiptoes, he snuck into the cave. Quiet, he listened for noise, for any indication of which way the man had gone. Florian had been in this cave before searching for a special mushroom his father liked to use in his medicines. He knew each twist and turn as the tunnels led deeper underground, spiraling on for what seemed like an eternity. Florian squatted, brushing his palm over the ground. His fingers searched for a disturbance in the settled dirt. Smooth to the right.
