It pounds inside him, starting as little more than a thrum--
the barest hint of a sound, until he listens. The sound swells, and becomes
louder, a drum beating, beating inside of him as if it could escape. He
wonders if the whole forest hears it, the whole swamp and every little thing
that moves throughout it. He wonders how they cannot. That sound-- it
seems to be his whole world. The sound that is as loud as hope itself,
the sound of life.
