Night in the swamp. A dark moon hangs silent and brooding over the trees, and even the stars are blotted out by ragged clouds scudding across the sky. He looks up through a break in the canopy as he waits, knowing that this meeting is a fool’s errand, but unable to help himself. It is as inevitable as the stages of the moon.
His partner is to meet him here, his first love, but the sense of dread that fills him tells him that it will not be with adoration and sweet smiles. His love will come to betray him. It is a bittersweet thing, for despite the knowledge, he still loves that one.
And the worst part is that he intends to be a traitor to his love in return.