[Back jacket]
He went hungry that night.
It was not the first time.
He was very thin, with knobs for knees and elbows like arrowpoints, and scratches all over his body, which was brown everywhere from the sun. His thatch of straight, dark hair fell across his face, often obscuring his eyes, which were as green as the woodland, with gold highlights, like rays of sun showing through.
He laughed at the antics of baby animals but could not tell a joke.
He imitated birdsong but could not sing.
He liked the way rain ran down his hair and across his cheeks, but he did not cry. An animal does not cry.
He was eight years old and alone.