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Dawn's silvery light crept through the forest floor as the night's once impervious fog finally slipped away into nothingness. A young faun chased the precognitive shadows and laughter of the old Forest's nymphs - not knowing what his exact reasons were. He only knew how he enjoyed the burst of energy in the moment that made him strong with laughter. His greatest longing was to see his nymph's reaction once she was caught, and ultimately to fulfill the impulsive desires that he knew were apart of his purpose. So spontaneous was the old king. Even so, it was not as rare for Pan to capture the wood's children in his arms, just to have them slip away. It did not discourage him for long. His love of the chase was strong.

On one particularly cold morning, Pan was resting his body on the sandy banks of an old lake, staring at his reflection in the water. However, it was not his reflection that he saw. He was deeply contemplating the meaning of love. This was something he did often, while feeling the many shifts and processes on the earth that he cared so much for. He loved to chase and play with the forest nymphs, but his love for nature was greater. And as he scratched his head in thought, a new feeling encroached upon his senses. He immediately felt the energy of a promiscuous young nymph that which he was not familiar with. And she was curiously boding for his attention. All at once, Pan was strangely entranced and sorely confused. He saw before him the green and flowing quality of her fairly lit form, but was afraid to reach out and touch her. Something small within him sensed that this nymph should not be touched, though he pined for her with all his soul immediately. His own reluctance startled him. The nymph regarded Pan with a carelessness that left the young faun puzzled. Her eyes sparkled as if in laughter at his bewilderment.

'You cannot touch me, great Pan,' her voice rang out so gaily, 'for I am Echo - lighter than the Wind, free as the tides that ebb; and I shall never be as any lover's fair face to boast upon! Though many have tried, and failed, and failed.'

Of course, the nymph knew that saying such things only encouraged Pan that much more. The faun's reluctance was now but a forgotten trace of memory, as he did have the tendency to be absent-minded. All he could hear was her name, and all he could see was her hair flowing upon the breeze that drew her away from him. He did not understand why she had come to him in such a strange and sudden manner, but he did not dwell on it. Before he could even manage to form his question verbally, the nymph was off. And so, the chase ensued. He wanted nothing more but to hold the nymph and have her, for in his befuddled heart, he felt this must surely be love. It was a race of ridiculous frenzy. Pan's bleating laughter shook the leaves as he dashed through the many ravines and pine groves. He did not understand why the forest was not laughing with him as it usually did, but he put the thought to rest. Even in his quickness, Pan paled in comparison to the speed that this nymph was maintaining. She seemed to fade and intertwine within the trees, her eyes sparkling in the bark like a ravenous wildfire that could not be extinguished. Her enigmatic beauty and bold spirit drove Pan mad with enthusiasm, and as the chase progressed, it was as if the faun's hooves became lighter than the wind that passed him. It was as if the entire valley suddenly fell asleep in the silent spectacle of their frantic sprint.

And soon, it had been a glorious stretch of two days for their running about. Even though Pan began to feel tired and his limbs were now aching, his heart compelled him to continue; so, he did. Echo's consistent laughter daunted his spirit, making him feel a bit incompetent in his ability to keep up. But Pan wanted her more than any other nymph he had ever known, and he so wanted to be everything that she desired. He ran until he could run no more. He was close to the lake that he had been relaxing next to earlier that morning, and he found himself unwillingly collapsed. His breath was ragged and his hooves were cracked and aching. He watched as she continued forward, and moments after he had fallen, the nymph suddenly took notice. Now she laughed even louder than before, and it was as if she had not been running at all. Echo approached Pan where he lay in the sand and danced about him in a circle, as if celebrating the faun's physical demise. Pan could not bring himself to feel angry at her, even though he felt the forest nymphs laughing with her at him. He lay there against his tree, struggling to breath as he gazed upon her with great love. Now he only wanted her more.

'Ah,' the nymph remarked merrily, 'So you see, dear Pan; I am not to be trifled with! You may be so apt to having all that you see and desire - but not I! You are but a garrulous, philandering fool. I pity you!'

Pan only smiled on her. For when he loved another as deeply as this, he could see no wrong in their ways; no matter what they did. Every word she spoke only led his love to grow for her. He watched her as she tried to provoke him back into the chase by leaping about him in circles. But Pan would not stand up, which seemed to disappoint her a bit.

Then Pan spoke.

'I know not of where you come from, fairest Echo,' he regarded her plainly, now sitting erect. 'Nor do I know of what has lead you unto me in this place. Though I must say, I certainly trust that Father has brought the two of us together.'

The nymph's once apparent grin had shriveled up, revealing a look of sudden repulsion.

'The two of us, 'together'? Ha! I think not,' she sneered. 'You are a man, but then you are not. To me, you are but a farce. I have not come to you for the sake of love, old goat. How could I ever desire a creature that spends his days lumbering about aimlessly in the trees after precarious nymphs, drinking and lusting, and lusting? Are you so daft to suppose that one such as I would ever want you?'

Pan's smile now wavered as Echo spoke, his ears wilting at the words they received. The nymph was not finished. She was filled with a sudden anger that left Pan feeling both uneasy and hurt. He did not understand it, and his heart sank.

'Then why are you here?' he asked. The nymph was now furious.

'Why am I here? Why am I here? Why would I come! Why would I come!' she screeched. The once happy sparkle in Echo's eye had transformed into a fiery frenzy. 'O Pan, I merely seek the chance to show the world my eternal scorn for Men - and what better way to accomplish this, than by coming unto you and filling you with a love that cannot be quenched! No Man shall ever take me, for I am free! Not even you, old beast. I could never love a thing like you. The world laughs at you!'

Pan felt himself trembling with grief. The nymph's words struck hard and deep. It was as though a mountain had crumbled within him. Tired and shaking, Pan did his best to stand on his own two feet, and for the first time met with the nymph eye-to-eye. He could feel the spirit of the forest gathering to him in comfort.

Pan glared at the wicked nymph through misty eyes. Anger was swelling up in him, but he did not want it to get the best of him. The trees whispered in the soft wind that brushed against them, tendrils dancing lightly. The stems of flowers quivered softly in unison with the trees. It was as if a chorus of sudden tranquility sprung forth from the mouths of Earth's face in an attempt to heal the old king. Pan heard the air and soil and wood speaking to him in tones of warmth and immediately knew their meaning, but not even the Earth could completely douse his temper now. His mind had narrowed and was bent on this agony.

For what the nymph had said was partially true. Pan had not relinquished the painful memories of scorn and contempt that his past love's had felt for him. Even if the love had been strong and true in his heart and he pined for them relentlessly, Pan could not bring many of those in his past to love him. And so, many a time, Pan underwent deep anguish. For so long, Pan was shunned and rejected by his fellow men. Even now, in this great wood and within his hidden kingdom, with all its many treasures and joys; deep down, the old king was unhappy. And even with the great anger that stirred inside him now, a part of Pan longed for the nymph who stood before him. He hated this feeling. As Pan strongly rejected the Earth's consolation, the trees and flowers and brooks all withdrew their songs, silent and sorrowful, but with great respect.

'Away with you, wench,' Pan growled. 'I have had enough of this nonsense and foul trickery. You have no place in these woods. Take your leave, and never come back. For I will not be so kind to treat you as a lady if you should happen to insult my forest with your presence again.'

Echo bristled with bitter hatred. 'Again! Again, you say! Again!' Her eyes flashed and burned like tiny black coals. It was such a fury that her pupils could have singed her lashes. Pan readied himself for an attack, as he felt her glassy heart pining for revenge. The trees were consorting amongst themselves in old tongues long forgotten by men and other forests alike; and in their speech, the possibility of action against Echo was being discussed.

'Yes,' Pan commanded, his voice as firm as his hooves now were upon the broken sands. 'Leave, now!'

For a brief moment which somehow seemed eternal, Echo stood her ground and faced the old king with savage abhorrence. Pan stood ready, waiting for the moment when he would be forced to fight back her onslaught. The trees were as still as an ancient cliff.

A small, almost sensual smile appeared on the nymph's face. Then, without a sound, she faded into the wind like a mist. Echo was gone. A single burning tear grazed Pan's cheek. It had been waiting to come out for a very long time.