Grim Reaper's Bride
It laughed, dodging the projectile.
“What the heck are you?” I demanded, balling my hands into fists.
The shadow rose, stretching its limbs as it emerged into the sunlight. I gasped as it- he- extended his hand with flourish and grinned devilishly. “Merry,” he winked, voice like a fiddle. “Be I knave or sprite, my nature is holy, and wholly mischievous. I am but a good fellow, come to fetch a girl of fair age and sullen disposition.” The creature bowed rakishly low. “And, by the bend of thy brow, I suspect that girl is you. Very well, I say. If you'll allow me to hasten introductions, I am Robin, a common puck.”
Bab Populer