The figure glided towards her hunched-over form with the dexterity of a ninja, her sobs muffling the otherwise barely audible shuffle of soles across wood.

Abigail’s keen senses felt the approaching presence of the stranger, as the curious bird cried out in the trees in the distant darkness.  A phantom heat drew her attention over her left shoulder as her right hand reflexively wiped streaming tears from her cheeks.  As her head turned, her mouth opened and a chirp like that of a startled bird began to emerge from her lips.

“Hush,” the figure spat into the darkness, halting her cry.

“Please keep quiet,” the figure said.

“I have come to this place, several days in a row.  Are you the one the wrote the note? If so, why have you made me… ” her voice began to rise.

“Please!”

The figure whooshed this request towards her, stopping her voice mid-question.

“I must ask you to keep as quiet as possible. There is considerable risk in my meeting you here. ”

“I’m sorry,”  Abigail whispered.  “I’ve so many questions.  I’m also taking chances being here.  My family does not know that I have come to this place, nor that I am out of the house.   Was the message for me?  Why have I been made to wait?  What is this all about? Why as of this secrecy?” Abigail noticed that her voice had again begun to rise, and she halted her questions after “secrecy.”

The figure nodded slowly, once.

“I intended to be here on the first day.  I truly did.  It seems that forces do not conspire against only you in this village.  I left the note, believing that I would be able to convene with you on that first night.  Alas, though i tried, each attempt to come to this place was deterred or thwarted.   I am simply grateful that you have continued to come.

The strange bird in the trees cawed shrilly. There was a fierce rustling of leaves, then both Abigail and the stranger could see the bird by the light of the moon, gliding above the trees.

“This was likely my last night coming to this place.  As you surely witnessed, I was a bit upset just a short time ago.”

“I am grateful for you continuing to show here.   I am also grateful that I was able to make it here this particular evening, and not a day later.”

“Who are you?”

“Someone who wants to help,” the figure said.

“I have plenty of people who can help me.  What would you have to offer me that I cannot get elsewhere?  Why go through the trouble of writing a note and hiding it in a dock piling?  Do you really believe that I may find what you are proposing useful?”

The figure slunk back slightly, seeming to be injured by the rapid interrogatives.

“I can’t be exactly sure, but I have an inkling that you might be interested.”

A slight wind pushed against the bushes surrounding the pen, causing a crunching sound from the compressing of the thin twig branches and leaves.  Subtle splashing sounds came from the watery center in the pen, liquid languidly lapping against wood.

“If I am to believe that your intentions are honorable, and philanthropic, as you say, I shall need to see your face.”

The stranger moved to a spot better lighted by the moon, nodded to Abigail, and pulled back the shroud that covered his head.

The moon highlighted shaggy, wavy, raven locks, that swirled atop the strangers head and plunged down his forehead.  Perhaps because of the hood, the strangers hair was matted down on the left side, partially obscuring one eye.  The strangers face appeared deeply tanned, slightly gaunt, and handsome.  His melancholic eyes twinkled slightly, as a wry, sheepish grin formed from his mouth.

“Do I know you?” Abigail asked.

“Not yet.”

“Are you sure?  I have the sense that I have met you before.”

“The daughter of the chief has likely met most in this village.”

“Agreed.  Though I sense more than the remembrance of a passing handshake.”

“We have seen each other many times, almost every day, in fact.”

“Why have we not spoken yet?  Why this enigmatic meeting?  Of what purpose is this surreptitious session?”

“I have something to offer you.”

“You lured me out to this place with a note tucked into a pillar of wood.  I waited days before finally meeting you.  I was bawling into my hands before you snuck up on me.   Whatever you are offering, I surely hope that it is worth this type of trouble?”

“It will take a degree of faith to find out, but I believe that it is.”

“What makes you so sure?  And after all of this, why should I trust you?”

“Because what I am offering is what no one else will teach you.”