A fragment of scent.
Something akin to the earthy lightness of air above running water, carried to him now on the faintest of winds.
Something else too, spring buds wrapped tight, tree sap, strengthening.
The scent was intoxicating.
And as much as he was helpless to escape its effects, it awakened in him the most primal of desires.
He had to have it.
He had always known there was something savage at the centre of his being.
And this he thought, was true for all men.
That desire, once awakened,
became their source of truth.