If you had walked through the jungle that night you would have heard sweet music. A child choir singing melancholy songs in the moonlight. Whisteling in the wind. Melting voices that echoed between the trees. You would have followed their calling hymns. The light voices were singing about stars and planets, friends and enemies, the sun and the moon, kings and queens. You would have been spellbound. And you would just have kept on walking, towards the singing. You would find out that it was ten small children walking.
The boy who walked first was a bit taller.
He held a big wooden stick, a staff, and a crown made out of leafs adorned his head.
His lips were red like blood. He sang beautifully.