---

And as the vicious tides did swirl and break upon the rocks,

The weeds seemed to slither, as though in serpent form. And climb they did, toward the edge of the cliffs.

Licking at the nestling's of young fledglings and moaning with a sound akin to the worst of...

Nights such as these have become more frequent since my foray into the woods.

The moon dragging me towards the gypsies that are said to camp near the river.

T'was cold evenings like this that the trees creaked in agony, and the birds did gather in unsettling numbers.

Long past into the forgotten times...

...thrashed upon the village stones I was much to the merriment of the throng who had gathered and gladly quaffed the mead to my misfortunes.