The Behemoth Stirs

It was particularly dark in the forest. A settled, hazy fog penetrated everything with a damp and chilling cold. The Behemoth was fully within the fog's grasp. For months it had lain cold and dead.

As the dawn approached, something different was in the air. Sunlight cut through the trees and fog like a sharp knife cuts through flesh. A new life. The forest was not accustomed to it. It had been so long. The beast was in plain view now. Debris, which had long encumbered the lifeless, massive frame, had all but melted away. Now there was breathing. Up and down, the breathing became deeper, more rhythmic, returning the creature to full life.

The surroundings seemed the same as before, but something was definitely different. Suddenly, in an unexpected moment the Behemoth's eye flashed open. After looking around momentarily, the beast began to recognize familiarity.