We do everything we can to keep it pristine.

Something deep in the human psyche has always seemed to yearn for ever more enhanced levels of savagery.

I can't say why he did it (relocated the stream). He shouldn't have done it. We ordered steps to come into compliance.

The original Gothic horror tales focused on personalities deformed through loneliness. Ghouls, vampires, werewolves: all made, not born. But the isolation? Are even such as these ever truly alone? Perhaps the psyche has always been more complex than that, desire eternally more potent than terror. Surely, none prowl entirely in solitude.

Even in the wood, there was a right road and a wrong one. All the most terrifying fairy tales inevitably began with some foolish innocent (or two) straying from the path. Then anything might happen.

It's important that your shucked oyster is clean and pristine.