Themes of death

Young Molly Bawn had a lover. She loved him with all her heart, and he loved her just as much. They lived a little house of their own by the forest.

He had to go hunting. With a kiss goodbye, he headed out into the forest with his gun to hunt.

Young Molly couldn't bear to be parted with him. She had begged him to let her go with him, but he had denied, saying he'd be back before she knew it.

After sitting at home for a little while, she finally had to go after him. Smiling at the thought of being with him again, she swiftly ran into the forest after him, her skirts flying around her legs.

He's creeping among the trees, waiting for the deer. He freezes as he hears their feet. It sounds like only one deer, and it is running. He quickly hides behind a tree, waiting for it to pass him so he might get a shot at it.

Young Molly slows as the trees grow thicker. She knows he'll be hiding, and so she begins to wander quietly through the trees, peering around each one.

He frowns as the sound of the deer softens. He listens for a few moments, before realizing that the deer has merely slowed. It sounds like it's getting closer. He grips his gun, and risks a peek around the tree.

Molly freezes as she hears a noise. Maybe it's him. She looks around, trying to determine where the sound came from.

He sees a shadow among the trees, but it stops as soon as he moves. It must have heard him. It's now or never. He points his gun and shoots. It falls to the ground. He rises, and walks to it, happy that his hunt has been quick and successful. As he approaches the fallen figure and looks into its eyes, he falls to his knees with a cry.

He is hung the next morning for the murder of Young Molly Bawn.

Sometimes I feel like Polonius trying to keep up with Hamlet.

~Calminaiel~

"Yeah, my sister's into music."
"Oh, punk rock?"
"No...classical."