He saw his past crawl on its hands and knees, begging for a audience. He closed his weary eyes, he couldn't entertain this right now, but no matter how hard he tried he couldn't get the noise and the scent of it out of his head.
He tried so hard to picture a place where he felt a little safe, but right now it wouldn't come, he couldn't see the rolling hills or the pretty maiden with the auburn hair, her lilting voice singing her song
Oh pretty boy
Don't cry now
While Mother is away
She will be back to carry you home
She will dry your tears of woe
Hold you close as the moon dips low
Oh pretty boy, don't cry now.
The song played in his head, crashing against the images he didn't want to visit. The beast had come calling, he couldn't shut him out, not this time, the beast was asking for the impossible, he was asking for a audience with him, he could never give in to this request, he was a better person now, not what the beast had made him. He had trudged through his wilderness of hurt and despair and come out of it a better man.
While the beast raged on, he closed his eyes and listened to the pretty maiden's song...
