His footfalls were the pitter patter of rain in the morn, washing away the soot and grime of a hard day's work. As he stepped around in a cryptic dance, spinning with the breeze, all the animals rose up in song; a chorus of nature. He knew all the animals, and they all knew him. They were friends in life, and friends at the end. He came to dance in a nearby village, tiptoeing on the rooftops and waltzing in the plaza. All the people he passed shivered, drawing up their cloaks as if a sudden breeze had snagged them. They were not his friends. They feared him. He went to the house of an old man, and took him up in ballroom dance.