Sam lived about a mile away, with his mom and dad, two younger brothers and a baby sister, three dogs, five cats, a turtle, and a tank full of tropical fish.

"It's like living in Noah's ark," he said. "I try to stay out of the house as much as possible. Mom and Dad don't mind. They think children should be free to express their individuality. As long as I come home for bed at night, they're happy. They don't even care if I miss school every once in awhile. They think school's a despotic system of indoctrination, designed to crush the spirit and stamp out creativity." He talked like that all the time. He was younger than me by about 10 years, but you wouldn't have known it by listening to him speak.

"So, you two guys are with the show?" he asked, rolling a piece of pickled onion around his mouth — he loved pickled onions and carried a small plastic jar of them with him. I found the stench and the taste revolting but who was I to judge? I sucked the blood of animals on a daily basis.

We'd returned to the spot at the edge of the clearing, it was quickly becoming referred to as the spot. The cirque members all joked that we'd claimed it from nature. Evra was lying in the grass, I was sitting on a low-hanging branch, and Sam was climbing the tree above me.

"What sort of a show is it?" he asked, before we could answer his first question. "There are no signs on your vans. At first I thought you were tourists. Then, after observing for a while, I decided you must be performers of some kind."

"We're masters of the macabre," Evra laughed, rolling around on the ground. "Agents of mutations. Lords of the surreal!" She was speaking like that to show she could match Sam's big vocabulary.

The little boy perked up, "It's a magic show?" Sam asked excitedly.

"It's a freak show," I corrected. I was currently tearing the petals off of wildflowers. Trying hard not to think how the orange hue matched a certain vampires hair color.

"A freak show?" His jaw dropped open and a piece of pickled onion fell out. I had to move quickly to dodge it. The smell reminded me of Grandma Shan's infamous sauerkraut; my father was 100 percent german, while my mom was Italian. Needless to say, but , I preferred my maternal grandparents cooking a lot more.

Sam furrowed his eyebrows, "Two-headed men and weirdos like that?"

"Sort of," I mused, "but our performers are really awesome, talented people. They don't just look funny."

"Cool!" He glanced at Evra. "Of course, I could see from the start that you were dermatologically challenged" — he was talking about Evra's skin. She looked pissed at the comment but (thankfully) bit her tongue- "but I had no idea there might be other members like you among your company." He looked over toward the camp, eyes bright with curiosity. "This is most fascinating." He sighed. "What other bizarre examples of the human form do your numbers include?"

"If you mean, 'What other sort of performers are there?' the answer is tons," I told him. "We have a bearded lady, of course."

"A wolf-man," Evra said.

"A man with two bellies," I added. We went through the entire list, Evra mentioning some I'd never seen. The lineup of the Cirque Du Freak often changed. Performers came and went, depending on where the show was playing. Sam was very impressed and, for the first time since we'd met, had nothing to say. He listened silently, eyes wide, sucking on one of his pickled onions, shaking his head once in awhile as though he couldn't believe what he was hearing.

"It's so cool," he said when we finished. "You must be the luckiest girls on the planet. Living with real circus freaks, traveling the world, privy to solemn and magnificent secrets. I'd do anything to trade places with you. . . ." I smiled to myself. I don't think he would have liked to trade places with me, not if he knew the full story. I thought maybe I would tell him the truth, but I didn't want to risk scaring him away. His innocence and wonder about the world around him reminded me of Annie...

"Hey!" he said. "Could you help me join? I'm a hard worker and I'm really smart. I'd be an asset. Could I join? As an assistant? Please?" Evra and me smiled at each other knowingly.

"I don't think so, kiddo," Evra said. "We don't take on many people your age. If you were older, or if your parents wanted to join, that would be different."

"But they wouldn't mind," Sam insisted. "They'd be delighted for me. They're always saying travel broadens the mind. They'd love the idea of me going around the world, having adventures, seeing marvelous, mystical sights."

Evra shook her head. "Sorry. Maybe when you're older." Sam pouted and kicked some leaves off a nearby branch. They floated down over me and a few stuck in my hair. I grunted in annoyance and promptly shook them out.

"It's not fair," he grumbled. "People always say 'when you're older.' Where would the world be if Alexander the Great had waited until he was older? And how about Joan of Arc? If she'd waited until she was older, the English might have conquered and colonized France. Who decides when someone's old enough to make decisions for himself? It should come down to the individual." He ranted on for a while longer, complaining about adults and the "corrupt frigging system" and about the time being ripe for a young people's revolution. It was like listening to a crazy politician on TV. "If a kid wants to open a candy factory, let him open one," Sam stormed. "If he wants to become a football star, fine. If he wants to be an explorer and set off for strange, cannibal-populated islands, okay! We're the slaves of the modern generation. We're —"

"All were trying to say is...some experiences aren't good ones, kiddo. You should really think it over. And talk it over with your parents." Sam didn't need to know it but I was certainly being a hypocrite.

"Sam," Evra interrupted. "Do you want to come see my snake?" The little boy broke out into a smile.

"Do I?" he yelled. "I thought you'd never ask. C'mon, let's go." Leaping down out of the tree, he ran for the campsite as fast as he could, speeches forgotten. We followed slowly, laughing, feeling a whole lot older and wiser than we should.

We gave Sam a guided tour of the campsite after that. We took him to see the wolf-man (the little boy was pretty quiet outside of the hairy wolf-man's van, totally frightened by the snarling creature inside). We introduced him to Hans Hands. Then we ran into Rhamus Twobellies practicing his act. Evra asked if we could watch, and Rhamus let us. Sam's eyes almost popped out of his head when he saw Rhamus chew a glass into tiny pieces, swallow it, piece it back together inside his belly, and bring it up his throat and out his mouth.

The lack of fresh blood in my diet was getting to me; my stomach grumbled a lot, no matter how much food I ate, and I sometimes got sick or had to sit down suddenly. Even the bottled and animal blood sickened me. I didn't want to faint or get sick in front of my new friend. The last thing I wanted was him trying to pry into my condition. I felt strangely protective over Sam. His childlike wonder reminded me a lot of my sister. I wanted to wrap him in a hug if I knew that would keep him safe from the perils of the real world. Sam would have stayed forever, but it was getting dark and I knew Mr. Crepsley would be waking soon. Depending on our moods we could be arguing well into the night. Not only that but Evra and me had laundry to finish so we told him it was time he went home.

"Can't I stay a little longer?" he pleaded. I was weak against puppy dog eyes. Damn his cuteness!

"Your mother's probably looking for you for dinner," I shut him down at once. I certainly did not wanting him meeting my mentor and asking a million questions.

"I can eat with you guys," Sam said.

"We may not have enough food."

"Well, I'm not very hungry, anyway," Sam said. "I already ate most of my pickled onions."

"Maybe he could stay," Evra said. I stared at her, surprised, but she winked to show she was only pretending.

"Could I?" Sam asked, psyched.

"Sure," Evra said. "But you'll have to help us with our jobs."

"I'll do anything," Sam said. "I don't mind. What is it?"

"The wolf-man needs to be fed, washed, and brushed," Evra said. Sam's smile went away.

"The wuh-wolf-muh-man?" he asked nervously.

"It's no problem," Evra told him. "He's pretty quiet once he's been fed. He hardly ever bites his helpers. If he does attack, keep your head away from his mouth and stick an arm down his throat. It's better to lose an arm than your —"

"You know," Sam said quickly, "I think I do have to go home. My mother said something about friends coming over tonight."

"Oh. That's a pity." Evra grinned. Sam backed away, gazing in the direction of the wolf-man's cage. He looked sad to be going, so I told him to stop by the next day.

"What are you doing tomorrow?" I asked.

"Nothing," he said.

"Do you want to come over in the afternoon and hang out with us?"

"Yeah!" Sam said right back, then paused. "I won't have to help feed and clean the...?" He gulped loudly.

"No," Evra said, still smiling.

"Then I'll be here. See you tomorrow, guys."

"See you, Sam," we said together. He waved, turned, and left.

"Such a sweetie, isn't he?" I said to Evra.

"He's a such a lil cutie!" Evra agreed "He could lose the whole sounding smart thing, and he's kind of a scaredy cat, but otherwise he's cool."

"Do you think he'd fit in?" I asked in a low voice.

Evra snorted sarcastically. "Like a mouse in a house full of cats! This life isn't for everyone. A few weeks away from his family, having to clean toilets and cook for thirty or forty people . . . He'd be running for the hills."

"We do all right," I grinned. "Although if anyone thinks I'm cleaning any toilets they would be sorely mistaken."

"We're different," Evra said with hands on her hips. "Were not children, like him, we're not like other people. This is what we're cut out for. Everybody has a place where they belong. This is ours. We're meant to ..." She stopped and began to frown.

She was looking over my head at something in the distance. I turned to see what was bothering her. For a few seconds I couldn't make out anything, but then, somewhere far off, coming through the trees, I saw the flickering light of a burning torch.

"What the heck?" I asked.

"I don't know what it is," Evra said. We watched for a few minutes as the torch came closer. I saw figures moving beneath the branches of the trees. I couldn't tell how many there were, but it had to be at least six or seven. Then, as they came out from under the trees, I saw who they were, and goosebumps sprang to life all over my neck and arms. They were the small, blue-hooded people that Steve and I had seen the night of the show, the ones who helped sell sweets and toys to the crowd and assisted with the acts. I'd forgotten about those strange blue-hooded helpers. It had been a months since that night, and I'd had so many other things on my mind. They came out of the woods in pairs, one set after the other. I counted twelve in all, though there was a thirteenth member, a taller person walking behind the rest. He was the one carrying the torch.

"Where did they come from?" I asked Evra quietly.

"I don't know," she answered. "They left the show a few weeks ago. I have no idea where they went. They kept to themselves mostly."

"Who are they?" I whispered fearfully.

"They're —," she began to answer, but stopped all of a sudden. Her eyes widened with fear. It was the man bringing up the rear, the thirteenth, taller member of the group — visible now that he was closer — who scared Evra. The blue-hooded people passed by silently. As the mysterious thirteenth person approached, I noticed he was dressed differently from the others. He wasn't very tall; he just looked big in comparison to the blue-hoods. He had short white hair, a thick pair of glasses, a sharp yellow suit, and long green rubber boots. He was pretty fat and walked with a weird waddle. He smiled pleasantly at us as he passed. I smiled back nervously, but Evra looked paralyzed, unable to move the muscles in her mouth.

The blue-hoods and the man with the torch walked farther into the campsite, all the way to the back, where they found a large clear spot. Then the blue-hoods began putting up a tent — they must have been carrying the equipment underneath their capes — while the larger man headed for Mr. Tall's van. I studied Evra. She was shaking all over, and her face was paler than it had ever been before.

"Evra?" She shook her head, unable to reply.

"What is it? Why are you so scared? Who was that man?" I shook her slightly.

"He ...It..." Evra cleared her throat and took a deep breath. When she spoke, it was in a low, trembling voice, filled with sheer terror. "That was Mr. Tiny," she said, and I couldn't get any more out of her for a long time afterwards.

Mr. Tiny?

Mr. Destiny?

I blanched. My whole world seemed to spin. Evra and I threw out arms around each other protectively and quickly headed back to camp.

Evra eventually came back down to earth. She stopped shivering but was very on edge the remainder of the night. I took over her share of the washing and just set her to folding, hoping it would calm her down.

After we turned in for the night she began to speak more of it. I was stocking my backpack with some toiletries in preparation for this month's blood bath so to speak. I changed into a silky, short nightgown Truska had given to me the other day. I sat down on her hammock and began my attack of questions. Evra was playing with her snake. She didn't answer immediately, and for a while I thought she wasn't going to, but in the end she sighed and began to speak.

"Mr. Tiny is the leader of the Little People," she said.

"The small guys in the blue hoods?" I asked.

"Yup. He calls them Little People. He's their boss. He doesn't come here a lot — it's been two years since I last saw him — but he gives me the creeps when he does. He's the spookiest man I've ever met."

"Yeah, same," I shivered and pulled the blanket over my shoulders. Evra's snake was curled up in our laps.

"Just wait till you've spoken to him. It's hard to explain, but every time he looks at me, I feel like he's planning to slaughter, skin, and roast me."

"Oh! You can't be serious?" I exclaimed, thoroughly freaked out.

"I don't know," She admitted. "Maybe he does, maybe he doesn't. But you get the feeling he wants to eat you. And it's not just me being stupid; I've talked about it with other members of the Cirque and they feel the same way. Nobody likes him. Even Mr. Tall gets fidgety when Mr. Tiny's around."

"Well, the Little People must like him, don't they?" I asked.

"Maybe they're scared of him," Evra said. "Maybe he forces them to obey him. Maybe they're his slaves."

"And they don't talk," Evra said. "I don't know if it's because they can't or if they don't want to, but nobody in the circus has ever been able to get a word out of them. They're really helpful and they'll do whatever you ask but they're as silent as walking dummies."

"You haven't ever seen their faces?" I leaned in closer.

"Once," Evra said. "Usually they don't let their hoods slip, but one day I was helping a couple of them move a heavy machine. It fell on one of the Little People and crushed him. He didn't make a sound, even though he must have been in a huge amount of pain. His hood fell to the side and I caught a glimpse of his face. It was disgusting," Evra said quietly, stroking the snake. "Full of scars and stitches all crumpled together, like some giant had squeezed it with his claws. He didn't have ears or a nose, and there was some kind of mask over his mouth. The skin was gray and dead-looking, and his eyes were like two green bowls near the top of his face. He didn't have hair, either."

My hands flew up to my mouth in shivered at the memory. I felt cold myself, thinking about her horrifying description.

"What happened to him?" I asked. "Did he die?"

"I don't know," Evra said. "A couple of his brothers came and took him away. They all look the same," Evra said. "Some are a little smaller or taller than the others, but there's no real way of telling them apart. Believe me — I've tried."

"Nobody knows where they come from," Evra sighed. "There's usually about four or six of them with the Cirque. Sometimes more turn up by themselves. Sometimes Mr. Tiny brings in new ones. It was weird that none were here when you came."

"I think it must be because of me…" I mused aloud.

"I doubt it," Evra said. "It was probably just a coincidence. Or fate." She paused.

"Which is another thing: Mr. Tiny's first name is Desmond."

"Mr. Destiny," I whispered, and Evra nodded seriously. I was dying of curiosity and asked Evra a bunch more questions, but her answers were limited. She knew next to nothing about Mr. Tiny, and only a little more about the Little People. They ate meat. They smelled funny. They moved around slowly most of the time. They either didn't feel pain or couldn't show it. And they had no sense of humor.

"How do you know that?" I scoffed.

"Bradley Stretch," Evra answered darkly. "He used to be with the show. He had rubbery bones and could make his arms and legs stretch. He wasn't very nice. He was always playing practical jokes on us, and he had a nasty way of laughing. He didn't just make you look like an idiot: He made you feel like one too. We played a show in an Arabian palace. It was a private show for a sheik. He enjoyed all the acts, but especially liked Bradley's. The two started talking, and Bradley told the sheik he couldn't wear jewelry, because it always slipped off or broke because of the changing shape of his body. The sheik ran away and came back with a small gold bracelet. He gave it to Bradley and told him to put it on his wrist. Bradley did. Then the sheik told him to try shaking it off. "So Bradley made his arm small and big, short and long, but he couldn't shake the bracelet loose. The sheik said it was magic and could only be removed if the wearer wanted to take it off. It was really valuable, priceless, but he gave it to Bradley as a gift."

"Ok?"

"Getting back to the Little People," Evra said. "Bradley loved to tease them. He was always finding new ways to trick them. He made traps to hang them up in the air by their feet. He set their capes on fire. He squirted liquid laundry detergent on ropes they were using to make their hands slip, or glue to make them stick. He put thumbtacks in their food and he made their tent collapse and locked them in a van."

"What an asshole! That's so cruel." I frowned.

"I think because they never reacted," Evra said. "He liked to see people get upset, but the Little People never cried or screamed or lashed out. They didn't seem to notice his pranks. At least, everybody thought they didn't notice. . ." Evra made a funny noise that was half a laugh, half a moan.

"One morning we woke up and Bradley had disappeared. Nowhere to be found. We searched for him, but when he didn't turn up, we moved on. We weren't worried; performers join and leave the Cirque pretty much as they please. It wasn't the first time somebody had sneaked away in the middle of the night. I didn't think any more about it until a week or so later. Mr. Tiny had come to see us the day before and took all but two of the Little People with him. Mr. Tall told me I had to help the leftover pair with their duties. I cleaned up their tent and rolled up their hammocks — they all sleep in hammocks. That's where I got mine from. Did I mention that before?" She hadn't, but I didn't want to sidetrack him, so I said nothing. Yet silently I found myself trying to inch out of our warm, safe cocoon which no longer felt nearly as warm and safe as before.

"After that," She went on, "I washed their pot. It was a big black pot, set on a fire in the middle of the tent. The place had to have been full of smoke whenever they cooked because the pot was covered in grime. I took it outside and tried to scrape the grime onto the grass. Next I decided to pick up the pieces of meat in the grass and throw them to the wolf-man. 'Waste not, want not,' like Mr. Tall always says. As I was picking up the meat and bone, I saw something glistening. . . ." Evra turned away and rifled through a bag on the ground. When she turned back, she was holding a small gold bracelet. He let my eyes linger on it, then slipped it on over his left hand. She shook his arm as fast as he could but the bracelet never moved. When she stopped shaking her arm, she slid the bracelet off with the fingers of her right hand and tossed it to me. I refused to touch it and the bracelet fell on the ground.

"The bracelet the sheik gave to Bradley Stretch?" I said with a horrified whisper.

"The same," Evra said and picked it up. "I don't know whether it was because of something really bad he did," Evra said, fingering the bracelet, "or if they were just tired of the nonstop teasing. What I do know is, ever since, I've gone out of my way to be polite to the small, silent people in the dark blue capes."

"What did you do with the remains of ...I mean, with the scraps of meat?" I asked. "Did you burn them, or have a burial service?"

"Heck, no," Evra said. "I fed them to the wolf-man, like I meant to." Then, in response to my horrified look, he said, "Waste not, want not, remember?"

I stared at him for a second, then began to laugh. Evra laughed, too. In a minute we were both rolling around on the floor in hysterics.

"I can't believe-" I gasped for breath. I grabbed a pillow and smacked my friend with it. "I can't believe we're laughing at this."

"I bet he tasted rubbery." Evra giggled.

That made us laugh even more. Tears rolled from our eyes and trickled down our cheeks. It was a terrible thing to laugh at, but we couldn't help it. In the middle of our fit of hysteria, the flap to the door of our tent was pulled aside by an inquisitive head, and Truska entered.

She cooked her head to the side, severely confused. I began to laugh again. She shook his head and rolled her eyes. Then, when we finally quieted down, she told Evra why she was there.

"Mr. Tall wants us to report to his van as soon as possible." Evra's mirth was gone in an instant.

"Why does he want us?"

"He doesn't," Evra said. "Mr. Tiny is with him. He's the one who wants us."

I could tell what was going through her mind. It was the same thing that was rushing through mine. We were thinking of the Little People, Bradley Stretch, and the big black pot full of scraps of human meat and bone.

After quickly throbbing a robe on, me and Evra hurried to Mr. Tall's van. She was shaking like a leaf even in my borrowed coat.

Mr. Tall ushered us inside and it wasn't until I saw the uneasy looks on both his and Mr. Crepsley's faces did my heart jolt with true fear.

"Come in ladies," Mr. Tiny welcomed us as though this were his home. " Please sit down."

Evra quickly moved, but I remained on my feet. "I'll stand if that's ok, sir." Evra bolted to stand next to me.

"As you wish," Mr. Tiny said. He was the only one sitting.

"I've been hearing a lot about you, Miss Shan," Mr. Tiny said. He was rolling something between his hands: a heart-shaped watch. I could hear it ticking whenever there was a pause in his speech.

"You're quite the girl, by all accounts," Mr. Tiny went on. "A most remarkable young lady. Sacrificed everything to save a friend. There aren't many who would do as much. People are so self-centered these days. It's good to see the world can still produce heroes."

I gave Crepsley a pleading look, his eyes told me to stay calm.

"I'm no hero," I said, blushing slightly at the compliment.

"Of course you are," he insisted."What is a hero but a person who lays everything on the line for the good of somebody else?"

An idiot. I shifted uncomfortably. Tiny's eyes seemed to be trying to devour me.

"Larten tells me you're reluctant to drink human blood," Mr. Tiny continued. "I don't blame you. Nasty, repulsive stuff. Can't stand it. Apart from young children, of course. Their blood is scrumpdillyicious."

I frowned. "You can't drink blood from them," I said, clearly enraged. "They're too small. If you took blood from an innocent young child, you'd kill it."

His eyes widened and so did his smile. "So?" he asked softly.

All of a sudden I knew why this man was so feared. He was evil. Not just bad or nasty, but pure evil. This was a man I could imagine killing thousands of people just to hear them scream. A man who wanted to see the world burn.

His voice. It was the one from my thoughts. I'd know that sound anywhere. I scowled. I only snapped out of my anger when I felt Mr. Crepsley put his hand on my waist. A silent warning.

"So protective of the Little Miss," Mr. Tiny tutted disapprovingly. He tittered to himself. "If I recall correctly, your caretaker Mr. Tall mentioned something quite startling about your development." The hand on my side tightened its grip considerably. "Something quite unnatural for a vampire. If you're not careful, you'll attract all kinds of attention. Perhaps you already have."

"What are you suggesting?" I challenged. Mr Tiny raised at eyebrow at my outburst.

"Mr. Tiny, I believe there was a specific reason why you called these girls out of bed so late at night. Perhaps we should discuss that, as I hate to see my young charges out after curfew." Mr. Tall wrapped his interjection with a polite air. But the threat was clear in my mind.

"Down to business," Mr. Tiny said. His hands tightened on the heart-shaped watch and for a second they seemed to glow and melt into its ticking face. I blinked and rubbed my eyes. When I looked again, the illusion — which it must have been — was gone.

"You girls saw me arrive with my Little People," Mr. Tiny said. "They're new converts to my cause and are a little unsure of the ropes. Normally I'd stick around and teach them how to work, but I have business elsewhere. Still, they're smart and I'm sure they'll learn. I'd like it if you two fine, young ladies would help ease them into the swing of things. You won't have to do much. Mainly I want you to find food for them. They have such big appetites."

"How about it? I've got the permission of your guardians." He nodded at Mr. Tall and Mr. Crepsley, who didn't seem happy about the arrangement, but looked resigned.

"Will you help poor old Mr. Tiny and his Little People?" I looked at Evra. I could see she didn't want to do it, but she nodded her head anyway. I did the same.

"Excellent!" Mr. Tiny boomed. "Young Evra Von knows what my darlings like, I'm sure. If you have any problems, report to Hibernius and he'll help you out." Mr. Tiny waved a hand to let us know we could leave. Evra began edging backward immediately, but I held my ground.

"What are the Little People, exactly?"

Mr. Tiny smiled. "They are elves and leprechauns," he said. "All around the world, you will find legends and stories of small, magical people. Legends have to start somewhere. These legends started with my short, loyal friends."

"Are you telling me those midgets in blue capes are elves?" I asked disbelievingly.

"No," he said. "Elves don't exist. Those midgets — as you so rudely put it — were seen, long ago, by ignorant people, who invented names for themselves or fairies or sprites. They made up stories about what they were and what they could do."

"What can they do?" I pressed

Mr. Tiny's smile slipped. "Nobody told me you were this nosy. Remember, Miss Shan: Curiosity killed the cat."

"But satisfaction brought it back." I replied boldly.

Mr. Tiny leaned forward, and his face darkened. "If you ask more questions," he hissed, "you might find yourself turned into a cat. Nothing in life is forever, not even the human form." The watch in his hands glowed again, red like a real heart.

I was quickly pulled out of the van by my mentor.

"Go to bed now and get a good night's sleep," Mr. Crepsley commanded. "There will be no lessons tonight."

My eyes pleaded for answered but I received nothing more than a comforting pat on the head.

"Crepsley," Mr. Tall's voice spoke of warning.

"Am I safe?" I couldn't hide the tremors in my shoulders as I thought about that horrible man sitting inside.

"You think I would let anyone harm you?"

There it was again. That tight feeling in my chest. Without thinking I threw my arms around the Vampire and gave him a squeeze. A parody of the hug I actually wanted to give him before I quickly bolted away with a flaming face and growing embarrassment.

Evra and I crawled into the same bed that night shivering next to each other in the dark.

"What did Mr. Tiny mean about unusual developments?"

I was quiet for the moment. Of all people, Evra should not be the one I'm afraid to discuss this with.

"Vampires can't have children. That's why so few women are blooded. But I….." Evra gave me silent encouragement to continue. "But I think that I can."

"So that's what he meant by attracting attention." She was silent and then gasped. "He meant….Mr. Crepsley!"

My face burned as I buried it into my pillow. "Crepsley...He would never...Not with me!"

"Have you tried offering? You seemed pretty eager to throw your arms around him, I wonder what else-"

Evra's shouts of pain could be heard throughout the campgrounds that night.