And he saw the wildness within, and he wanted it. So he reached out, and melded himself to it, he fed on its energy, he breathed in its ecstacy and basked in its limitless potential, sheathing himself within its velvety darkness and drawing it into himself….until, one day, he found that it did have limits, that there were empty places within its rainbow swirls, pockets of nothinginess, where once there had been more….and then, when he looked harder, and listened harder, he realised that the wildness within no longer howled, triumphant and unafraid and glorious and rampant, but instead it spoke politely, it made soft noises of quiet assent and, when it thought nobody was listening, it whimpered, feebly….