Remnants Left
-The scent awakens me, even as I sleep. I am no more aware than when I dream. It calls to me, though I am deaf. I want to follow even in my blindness. It is not a howl, like the cold night’s air; it is not a harmony, like the Sirens’ song. It is not need though it be dire. I do not rise, though I do not sleep. I simply sigh, as I give way.