Tall, dark and handsome: three words that do not describe Walter.
It's more like shunted, hobbling and gruesome.
Hobbling, he steps with his right foot, then quickly follows with his left.
Step-step. Pause. Step-step. Pause.
A crooked grin to match his teeth, Walter says little.
His responses are simple: a slow nod, a shift of his gaze.
He takes the same path through the woods and into a cave each morning before sunrise, and appears at its opening each sundown. He travels alone, carrying nothing, leaving observers to wonder what his purpose is in the damp darkness beneath the mountainside.
(*Walter was sold before I recorded his story and name. He may indeed be travelling under another identity. Perhaps one day his owners will contact me with a picture and let me know what he was christened).