The old man walked through the forest, whistling to himself. Glancing up at the overcast sky, he shuddered slightly, and wrapped his cloak tighter around himself.
"Oooo!" came a muffled voice. The old man frowned and glanced around to see who was speaking to him. Eventually a figure emerged from the trees, an ugly little man in blood-stained clothes, with a cloth tied around his face to keep his jaw shut. "Hoooh ooo!" said the man, brandishing a short sword. "Hooo!"
The old man gave a slight bow. "Hoo to you too, my good man," he said softly.
The little man gave a weak growl. "Duh mah me!" he grunted, waving the blade. "I a daaaherus mmmm."
"Are you now?" said the old man, calmly walking past him. "Well, I'm happy for you."
"Aaaaayyy!" screamed the little man, rushing after him, his blade raised. "Oooo cahh do theee ooo me! I kuh ooo!"
The old man yawned. "Indeed," he said, stretching to face the little man. "And how are you going to do this?" The little man snarled and rushed at him, stabbing at him. The old man knocked his hand aside, and grabbed his arm, then twisted. The little man gave a scream. "Listen," said the old man. "I've seen a lot of death recently, and I'd rather not see anymore. You are a starving, injured man, and I am neither. If you try to kill me again, I will killl you. It is that simple." He tossed the little man away, so that he landed in a heap on the side of the path.
The little man snarled, and raised his hand, only to realize his knife had been knocked out of it. He began to search for it desperately. "Ooo ah no ay ee wuh ooo duh! I a purr mahh!"
The old man nodded. "Of course." He walked on. After a moment, he heard some scrambling behind him. He twirled around, seeing the little man with his knife ready, making another stab. He dodged it, punched him in the face, then as the man staggered about dazed, tore off the cloth tied around jaw. The jaw fell open and the little man gave a scream of agony.
Which gave the old man enough time to give another blow that broke his neck.
The old man watched him fall limp on the ground, his breathing slowing and then stopping. Then the old man started whistling again, as he walked through the forest. After a moment he began to sing.
"Where have all the graveyards gone? Gone to flowers every one! When will they ever learn? When will they learn?" He sighed and began to whistle again, as he continued on his way.