The Desolation of Dawg.

As daylight fades in Le Vallée de Ger, haunted moans disturb the peace.

A tortured groan echoes across the valley, as if a great beast lies dying of terminal indigestion.

These sounds of dire distress last throughout the night, dispersed only by the late-coming morning sun.

What tortured soul makes these desolate cries? What foul misfortune has befallen some unfortunate beast?

As autumn falls each year, these sounds can be heard resonating around the Pyrénées. Surely no beast deserves such hell? All puny humans shelter in fear of what has befallen out in the lonely forests, bereft of all hope.

It is said by some that these forelorn sounds are actually those of rutting deer; their once yearly copulatory excesses leading them to vocalise their joy.

But we know better…