A Mouse With a Cloak

Small feet, small hands, so meek his timid shy tongue could barely speak but mumbles- soft words carried away by the slightest wisp of breeze. Soft brown hair covering a lecher head with thoughts buried deep, strange ideas from a cloaked little mouse. "Come, let's dine on aged cheese and the finest wine." Well, why not? I longed for a friend, but the boyish grin was hiding pointed teeth. The bashful charm masked dragon fire, and creatures crawling on floors of oceans deep. Long smooth arms were waiting to twine like a snake coiled in a wet patch of grass. Sitting at the white-linen table the candle flickered in the dark where goblets held tainted red secrets. Goose flesh gives a sign (as it is not cold) and stark-naked lies awaken from their dank den. Through the veil... through the cloak...black feckless eyes peered in an odd way and I knew then- darkness has no friends.