The Sullivan brothers were the tallest and stalwarts among the hunters in their town. They were also hard-nose. Though, they stayed out of trouble they worked very hard for their father who was the butcher. They barely smiled or joined any festivities the town had. Everyone knew they were no nonsense kind of fellows. Most stayed out of their way or at least tried.
“Where is your father?” George demanded to know. But Walter was unable to answer him, he did not know himself. George sighed in exasperation, “You two muttonheads are starting to bore me.” He looked at the brass compass he held. “I don’t think I want this old thing,” he said throwing it into the abyssal of the Black Forest. “Get it if you can.” The brothers left grumbling about the lost deer they did not kill. Walter and Alden stood in shock.
“That was my grandfather’s,” lamented Alden. “How am I going to retrieve it?”
“We could climb up that tree over there,” pointed Walter. “Maybe we can see it from there.”
“That’s a great idea!” Alden beamed. They ran to the tree with Walter hoisting Alden up the tree. Walter followed after him. Cadi landed on a branch above them. “We just need to look for something shinning.” That seemed to prove difficult, all they saw was the pitch darkness of the forest. By now they both decided to lower their voice to a whisper.
“What’s a foundling?” Walter wanted to know.
“Uh, I think someone without a mother or father,” Alden said. “I wonder if we could see the witch’s shanty from here.”
“Why would you want to see the witch’s shanty?” said Walter. “Do you really believe those stories are true?”
Don’t you?” said Alden. “It would explain why people have gone missing or mad.”
“Even if she did exist,” said Walter. “Why would you want to see her?”
“I don’t know,” said Alden. “Just curious I guess. I have never seen a witch before.”