He loved moonlit nights.
The way the light danced on the dark waters of the lake was soothing. I reminded him of.... of something. He shivered. He sighed.
He would give anything to see the memories the moon pulled from somewhere within.
He was always at the edge of a precipice, but the threat of the fall was a comfort.
Answers laid at the bottom, he was sure.
He opened his eyes, and the light greeted him.
"I wanna know," he whispered.
"Do you really?" The wind whispered back behind him, his hair raising.
"Turn around," spoke the leaves of the forest behind.
He turned, but there was nothing. Nothing but the smell of the grass and the sway of the leaves as they fell. He sighed once again, but before turning back, something moved out of the corner of his eye.
A shadow moved deeper into the forest.
His vision blurred and something bubbled to the surface of his mind. An echo. Laughter. The scent of cinnamon. Just as quickly, it was gone. He frowned, moving towards shadow.
Deeper and deeper he went into the forest, until finally he heard it. The voice, singing a tune both wholly unfamiliar yet oddly comforting. As he got closer, the voice grew, and he... recognized it. But how?
As he came upon the small clearing he stopped, for in the center, upon a large rock sat a woman with silver blonde hair looking up into the sky, her voice carried by the wind to his ears.
Again his vision blurred, and the echo returned. Dancing. Stargazing by the fire. The heat in his chest of a passionate kiss. As the echo faded, he stumbled, the raw emotion causing him to lose his balance, and a twig snapped beneath his foot.
Instantly, she stopped singing, and the night got just a bit darker. Quickly, she turned to him, wand held ready, and they locked eyes.
She smiled. A smile he knew, from an echo...no, a memory.
He's smiled back and approached.
As he approached, a faint laughter could be heard, as of the forest itself had accomplished it's task.