Walking in the shadows, hands brushing the cold dew on the leaves.
Guided by a single noise, in the distance.
The sound, piercing your soul, coursing through your veins.
You feel alive, revitalized, invincible.
Walking faster to find the source, the motivation.
The sound seems to travel farther, out of reach.
You run, faster and faster, flying through the forest.
Hands still sliding along the leaves, sliced with each step, each movement.
The sound, closer, you can taste it, feel it.
You reach a clearing, catching your breath you look up.
The sound is gone.
You fall to your knees, clenching your bloody hands.
Defeat.