Afternoon of a Faun

A skittering of stones somewhere in the labyrinth of ruins brought Alex's head up. Was that footsteps he heard?

"Steve?" He half-whispered, fearing that it might be someone else. Alex rose to his knees to peek over the wall. He ducked the moment he spied a figure moving several yards away.

"Come out, little one!" a deep voice called. "No need to hide from old Silenus!"

The voice sang in a deep, golden tone that reminded Alex so much of a summer day that his goose-pimpled skin almost flushed with warmth. More stones skittered and rolled in the ruins beyond. Footsteps, patterned and syncopated, danced closer to his hiding place.

"Come out, little one! Come out, I say. Old Silenus wants to play!"

The taunting voice warmed Alex again, even as he shuddered at the thought of being discovered. He had barely glimpsed the approaching figure before diving for cover. What he had seen had filled him with an unsettling mixture of curiosity and dread. It was a man, taller than Steve and more muscle-bound. He had clearly seen the lines of the stranger's shoulders and legs, long lean ropes of muscle that swayed with an easy grace.

What Alex hadn't seen was any clothing on the approaching stranger.