I though I'd try and write this from Howl's point of view as well since a couple of my reviewers wanted more and I got inspired. The idea of Howl being aware of what he was; what he was losing, what he was doing, and what he as becoming fascinates me. I want to expand more on this but I don't know if I can... I own neither the book or 'Hollow Men'

Hollow Man:

When I was five it was raining outside; pouring, and the sky was grey, and the ground was grey, and the windows I watched the world through ewre grey. But I was warm and I knew what love was then.

But I am hollow now.

Once a woman I cared about died. She had been a mother to me. I was so upset I nearly died myself for grief. Now the idea appalls me. What possessed be to act this way?

There was a poem I learned once, about men whose heads were filled with straw. Or was it their hearts? They exist. They talk... they move, but they aren't there. There's nothing in them. Life doesn't mater but they keep living.

And this is how the world ends...

I can't stop living. Whatever I am refused to simply end. But my fire is gone. I don't know why people do live. And I exist here struggling in the dark afraid to make a sound; aftraid that all that will emerge is a whimper of despair.

And this...

There's a girl who lives with me. She's the cleaning woman I think. Calcifer hates her. I don't know why. I hate to see her cry. I don't know why though. So she doesn't cry in front of me, but she does cry. She cries when I'm not looking. Or when thinks I'm not in the house. Her name is Sophie. I don't why I know any of this or why I care.

I think she reminds me of something, something I'm missing. My head is filled with straw and I'm hollow where my heart should be.

Sometimes I see through the straw and there's something more inside me; something that is light and makes me warm for a moment. And when I'm in this light the sight of Sophie makes me smile, but at the same time I feel broken and cold and so, so hurt.

I'm so angry, so lost, so cold!

Sophie is so warm and soft. I watch her tremble and I want to wrap my arms around her and hold her still. I want to take her and pull her inside of me so that I'm not hollow anymore.

"Why do I care so much Sophie? Why can't I see you leave me?" her eyes tell me the answer. But my eyes do not understand. The answer is ripping at her heart, reaching for my own. But my heart is missing, and she looks away from me, toward the fire.

Then, between the emotion and the response... Falls the shadow. And she answeres the only thing that is a certainty anymore. "I don't know Howl."

I want to be as she is. I want to fell what she feels. Even if it hurts. It would be a different pain than what I feel now. A soft pain compared to this crushing grinding pain I feel in my hollow chest.

Groping together, whispering -- meaningless words of hope, pain -- it doesn't matter because I don't know what the words mean anymore. She is silent though. She has nothing to say and just holds me. I move with her, and for a moment I am warm, for a moment, I think I am alive again.

So I hold onto her. I can't let go. I won't let go. Not until were both dead.

Searching her eyes for something, I hold them with my own, reflecting nothing. But when her eyes fill with tears I look away.

These tears are my doing; my fault. And when I have enough of my soul to care I know:

I have let her down.

Something hot and wet runs down my cheeks and a sound emerges from my throat. The sound that I was so afraid I couldn't hold in; the sound I didn't want others to hear. but she doesn't push me away. She holds me tighter and her tears soak my shoulder as we both whimper in the dark.

And this is more profound -- so much more profound -- than a falling, fading, dying star.

And this... this is how the world ends.

So here's just a bit more, tell me what you think please. :)