He looked down on his reflection. He saw his own face, dry and worn, nothing but a shadow of who he used to be. The forest was dying around him.

There were no birds anymore. No animals, just a fly every once in a while. He had learned how to catch them, but they weren’t much food.

Down by the lake he could see the old pram lying by the shore, sunken into the water. There were no more fish, no more nothing. Poison. It was where it had started, so silently.

He followed the water upstream…