A primitive region on darkness cries, a long mournful wail that writhes through the gnarled cypress branches like a breath of Hades' wind, skipping over the placid surface of the stagnant mire below.

Screaming herons stretch their sleek wings towards the angry heavens. Mottled bull-frogs sing their croaking night-song in eager anticipation. Great reptiles loll uncaringly beneath the cloud-cloaked moon.