Into The Mystery

The moor was again enshrouded in mist this morning. As I chased glimpses of the sun I half expected another sighting of the hound. Although it failed to appear to me today, I could often feel its presence, never too far away, as if it was leaving a scent for my intuition.

I was continually being led away from the light and towards the gloom of the fog, finding myself in ever stranger and eerier places. Finally, at the edge of a deep forest, I thought I heard something. As I strained to listen to the faraway sound, I knew beyond doubt that it was the hound, baying at the unknown, and the unknowable, a plaintive cry into the wilderness beyond. It was time to return home.