Malevolent mountain-beast. Shadow cast over farmer and city-dweller alike. They cower, cover, bolt windows and door. No speaking. No sleep. Candles flicker and wait while wind breathes down necks of nerves. They wait. Hunger and anger and madness. They do not leave. They do not see the sun. Soon the young are eaten; less for food than to let their screams drown out the horrible silence of the beast. And pity, mercy for their souls. Mother watching daughter huddle by the door, leather shoes scuffle back and forth, looking for a sign of hope. None comes and axe fall releases all manner of screaming screaming screaming. The malevolent silently grins and waits for ever.