Berstuk looked down on his people. The people that used to believe in him. The people that were afraid of him. He brought them food and scared them away from danger. He only wanted to them to survive.
But now none of them believe in the likes of him anymore. He was the last one standing. All his brother and sister had left already. "On with the time," they said. But he didn't want to leave them.
The Germans could make the laws as strict or as lax as they wanted. But he knew, that it was not their fault. It was time to move one.
Then he saw the young child playing by the water. The child looked around 5, but then appearances could neverbdeceive Berstuk.
Albin Fryco. 6 years old. Living in the foster home. Playing here, because he is not welcome in his own house.
He watched, as the child had fallen into the lake. It was the deep part of it and Albin did not know, how to swim.
Berstuk lowered himself down, as he gently lifted the child from the water. He lost consciousness, but there was no permanent damage done. He was still breathing.
He sat himself next to Albin, and waited for the child to wake up. It took a while, but for a being like him, it felt like a moment.
The child woke up and he looked around confused. Then he saw Berstuk, standing above him, not a drop in compassion in his face. Nothing human like in his body.
Berstuk was aware, that his goat legs appear more frightening than they really are. His fur was unusual to the people in this era. As long as he kept the stern face, the people were afraid of him.
"Get away from my land. If I see you here just one more time..."
Berstuk never finished his threats. The knew that they were necessary, but he didn't want to lie. The human imagination did the rest of the work for him. They always imagined the worst.
Albin run away, twordwards his house, as quick as his small legs would carry him. Berstuk looked after him.
"There is still work to be done here."
And he disappeared back into the wind, looking over everything.