A haunting melody cuts through the midnight air, heralding the return of the beast who sings it.

Cloven hooves press into the dirt and grass that layers the now dark grounds of the forest, the mistress moon spilling her gentle, pale light across the grassy plain of the meadow and upon the striped hide of the dual horned male. As he walks, tendrils of darkness itself fall and swirl behind him, leaving inconceivable whispers in his wake, wrapping around and toying with the minds of any who may be close enough to hear them. At his side walks the hound from hell itself, yellow eyes glowering as they chose the easiest path to take.

With Crowley's sight lost, it was up to him to lead.

Several seasons had come and gone since wraiths had taken over Helovia, as well as since the pair's disappearance. What had happened to them, Crowley still wasn't exactly sure; the last thing he remembered prior to waking up was that godforsaken cave, surrounded by all of that godforsaken moss. The only thing that the brindle had been able to come up with since awaking from his slumber was that there had been more hiding in that cave, some plant matter that was never meant to be inhaled and... well, the rest was history.

When Crowley had stepped out of that cave, the sun had been hanging proudly in the sky, leaving the brute to only assume that the world was back to whatever most accepted as 'normal'. Or, at least... that was what he guessed, as the heat was blistering, and as Talbot looked into the face of his master, the hound had come to realize that he was covered in a hideous, motley assortment of boils and warts. The stallion's golden eyes were hazed over and cloudy, marking him blind. Where other companions may have laughed at the misfortune of their other half, Talbot had felt only concern; he remembered the curse of the Lady Moon, and it only made sense that it was to blame for Crowley's horrid appearance and sudden blindness.

Being blind, covered in puss-filled boils and not knowing what the fuck was going on with the world wasn't the most pleasant thing in the world, but Crowley's concern had gone immediately to that of his family after the initial shock had worn off. Were they alright? Safe? Had they worried over him, looked for him? Or... had they assumed abandonment? His dearest Rhiannon would have grown so much by now, and the poor girl had already lost her mother just shortly after birth. And, what of Arah? Their newborn twins? Guilt clinched at the stud's heart and twisted his stomach into knots at the simple thought of it all.

Did they all hate him?

A gentle wuff pulled Crowley from his silent reverie, and he stopped at once at the hound's warning. There was no danger, however, as Talbot's mind connected to his own and the vision of a stream slowly came to his mind. With his mind derailed from his previous thoughts, the sound of the gently bubbling brook caught in his ears.

"Thank you, Talbot," came the brindle's exhausted voice, before he stepped carefully forward and lowered his head until his lips touched the cool water. It had been a long, painfully slow journey from the Heart caves, and with night upon them, now was a good time to rest and pray that this curse would be over come morning.

"Talk talk talk"