Zane  peered in the mist of a silent breeze passing round the frame of a chanting shadow.By a daylight fading light of the shadow changing the time of day or night.With a the breath of the whispering chant Zane had turned around and saw the shadow mixing  round the surrounding the dust flew.Behind Zane was a gloomy cloak with one touch had a frostbite feeling over his fingers.Zane had touched the frost flee and when he had he fled his finger of the cloak and turn back around to a silents of the chanting shadow whispering “come to sofa the nice ripped sofa”sounded the light whispers of the shadow.Zane fled and sat on the ripped misty sofa there he was feared. Begging  to have a death chanted  by his ear with the sound of a bloods whistle with the name of the slaying knife.