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Forest Through The Trees 

Max was naked and covered in sweat. The paint on his body losing its contrast and beginning to blend in, making it seem like the patterns were moving. 

He sat there in the lotus position, finger and thumb still clenched, eyes closed and letting the heat and the feel of the smoke wash over him. He was beyond tired, beyond sleep, he was beyond it all.

The drumming continued. The chanting of an old native man, intermixed with the young woman's trill, continued on, echoing through his mind, becoming part of the soundscape. Imagery, faces, events, situations, watches, cards, houseflies and emotions going through him like a wave on a distant shore. 

The chanting continued, the drums as well; it seemed to pick up a little pace. Max was lost to it.

"Awnee, Max." 

Max's eyes flickered open; the pupils were like reflections of torchlight in a pond.

"What can I do for you?" the wolf asked. 

Max was standing in an open field where the 13 moons were shining overhead, intermixed with reflections from distant stars. With a hint of darkness and light from all around the horizon, like sunrise and sunset. Here he was in twilight.

A campfire lighting up the area around him, in the shadows of the trees he could make out red eyes, green eyes, black eyes all staring down upon him. He could feel their hunger, but he wasn't scared. 

"I think you know," Max told the wolf.

The wolf changed to the image of an old native man, who sat cross-legged across from him. Naked, covered in symbolic tattoos. "I cannot fight your demons for you. It is you and you alone who can face them."