as the moons rise high into the sky, he makes his solitary walk up the side of the mountain to his nightly perch; the highest point in the land.

he pauses for a moment, gazing across the moon lit land, as far as his eyes can see. looking for a sign, any sign, of something. a movement. a glimmer of light.

a red eye, illuminated by the light of the moons.

anything.

but there is nothing.

no movement, no glimmer of light. no red eyes to inspire him to continue on.

he grows weary of his daily trek. he has lost count of how many times he has made the journey to the top of the mountain. how many times he has seen nothing in the moonlight. how many times his heart ached for something, anything.

he remembers not how he became eternally trapped in this world. how he became eternally trapped in the form he now has. he remembers little of what has come to pass. or why it came to pass.

all he has is here and now and a daily routine that tires him so.

many times, he has thought of simply throwing himself off the edge of the cliff. ending it all. putting a final nail in the proverbial coffin of eternity.

but he has never done it. he holds to the single thought that out there somewhere.

there is something.

he sits on his haunches, raises his head and howls his mournful song. the same mournful song he has howled for as long as he can remember.

but with the same result.

just his mournful howl echoing across the moonlit land.