He crunched the bourbon leaves beneath him, face straight, posture high. His eyes narrowed in on the clearing in the sober wood. Past the dull grass was a singular dark tree, one that absorbed the beaming sunlight leaving no room for hope in the meadow. Attached to the tall timber was a white cross, one that opposed the murk. It stood three men tall, filled with grace and stark. It was as though it spoke out to the lord. A home perfect for the pure hound the man dragged by its collar towards the holy mark. 

Its thick, milky coat was drenched in the scarlet of the reaper. He trudged the animal through the closed off lea. The light green of the mead gently faded into burnt sienna. As the grass turned, so did the man. His face scrunched, eyes tight, and sniffling fell from his nose. As he neared the cross, he placed his hands beneath the hound and brought him to his chest.

Like a little boy with his favorite teddy, he had no plans on letting go. But he was not a little boy, he was a man. 

The dog was then laid under the holy cross. The man reached for his back pocket, pulling out a small black leather pouch. He unclasped the little metal hook that kept it shut and pulled out a long rosary of beads. Similar to the pouch, the beads were jet black. They were kept together by a silver chain and were linked together in a circle. The pearls were evenly separated and at the bottom of the circle protruded a short straight line of beads that led to the charm of Jesus’s crucifixion. 

The man made crosses with his thumb over his forehead, his lips, and then his heart. He began to mumble: “Our Father in heaven, hallowed be your name. Your kingdom come, your will be done, on earth as it is in heaven. Give us this day our daily bread, and forgive us our debts, as we also have forgiven our debtors. And lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil.” After the prayer he placed his hands to his lips, slowly crouched down, and then brought his fingers to his companion letting them linger there for a bit. He just stared at his counterpart as tears began to sink into the cardinal coat. 

After a couple of minutes, he briefly collected himself, then placed his rosary back in his pocket. He swiftly grabbed a knife from the satchel across his waist and walked back into the ember of the forest.