"Fenrir! Get inside, it's getting late."
"No, mama, I want to play," he complained and stomp his feet.
"Fenrir, I mean it. Come inside. It's dangerous to be out there by yourself. Look how dark it is," she insisted.
Fenrir knew that his mother was right, but he was having so much fun outside that he didn't exactly care about the consequences. So, he decided to ignore her and she went back inside. An eight-year-old boy should have a little freedom and trust. He was almost a man, or at least that was what his father told him before he hit Fenrir when he arrived drunk at home.
The boy sank his hands in the mud and took out a blob as big as his hands could carry. He laid it down next to the similar ones he already had laid down to make a little city. His little city. Fenrir dreamed of being the owner of his own town eventually. He knew he could do it, he was very intelligent and he could make people do whatever he wanted.
Fenrir heard a twig break somewhere behind him and jumped slightly.
"Who's there?" he asked, keeping his voice steady. "I'm not afraid of you and my mum is right there."
Fenrir put on his bravest face, but the relief that washed over him when a stray dog came out from behind a tree was not the most manly feeling he had ever felt. He let out a loud breath and he noticed that his hands had been shaking.
Fenrir decided that it was time to go inside. Not because he was afraid. Of course not, it was because he was tired, it was getting late and he wanted to sleep. Admitting he was afraid was like admitting his mother was right, and he could not have that. Also, his father would be coming home soon enough and it was better if Fenrir was already in bed.
As he walked inside, Fenrir took another look around towards the same tree where the twig had snapped. He blinked when he thought he saw a pair of glowing eyes staring right at him, and started walking faster. If there was someone there, they wouldn't ge to him tonight