It lumbered and swayed. It creaked and crumbled. Cavernous opossums would take shelter on the bush of Its back. Ocean gulls would nest in its rocky underarms. Multitudes of rodents scurried back and forth from limb to limb, to venture down into the forest’s undergrowth, only when It was stationary; in search of scavenge to bring back to their nestlings.

Its granite feet weathered smooth by ocean currents. Its surface darkened by the bursting sun and only having the somber blue glow of the moon to comfort It in darkness. Thousands of feet tall It traveled across mountain range, prairie and plain. It waded through ocean depths and seas of green; searching for its lost ones. But it was eons ago when the Gods had made the Five of Six into the rock and the mountains, the seas and the oceans, the skies and the sun and the moon. It had never been told of its counterparts transformations, for It had no ears.

And so It wandered as a living fable, searching for what it had already found.