It was nighttime in the desert, and the insects sang a gentle chorus in the moonlight. The drab little wrens slept. The lizards scuttled between the scrubs and the saguaro, making the most of their reprieve from the heat of the day. The stars beamed down from above; there seemed to be fewer of them lately, but the remainder were no less stunning for the fact.
The monster had returned to the place where he had first appeared in the mortal world, hoping that he might have missed something. After a very thorough inspection, he had concluded quite definitively that there was no more to this place than met the eye.
To add to his list of complaints, he was now filled with an unshakable sense that someone, somewhere, was having a lot of fun without him.
For the second time during his stay in the desert, he heard the sound of hoof beats; after a few moments, he realized that they were drawing steadily nearer. The beast raised one weary head, and lifted his eyes just in time to see a number of men on horseback drawing to a stop before him.
There was a moment of silence, and then one of the men spoke.
"Found him," the burly man boomed with satisfaction.
"Well, it's about time," whined the thin man.
The creature began to rise to its feet, and then collapsed with a despairing grumble. The assembly frowned collectively.
"What's he doing?" choked the sick man.
"It looks like he's... moping," the burly man ventured.
The creature raised its eyes as the leader of the four horsemen approached. He was a pale man, and he rode a pale horse.
"We've been looking all over for you," he rasped.
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