Imagine a cloak made out of years. Seasons of rain, snow, sleet and hail, tempered by days of burning sun and pouring rain, woven together along with the wisdom of experiences met along the way.
Wrapped inside this cloak is the soul of an eight-year-old, innocence intertwined with a basic understanding of love, fear, humor, and even empathy.
Fleshing out that soul is the heart of a lion and the body of a full grown human, enough power to do what it knows is right.
If I were Mary Shelley, this would be my Frankenstein. If I were a wizard working for King Arthur, this would be my coup de grace. If I had a crayon this would be my masterpiece.
All people are man made in some respect.
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