The traveller came upon the valley by accident, a true slight of chance's humor as his acheful heart felt heavy in his chest. Time passed as the flowers began to bloom around him, vibrant seas of color shining brightly in the sunlight. Love began to grow amid the thorns of the valley, sprouting roots which dove eagerly into the sandy soil, clinging to their short life. Shadows began to pass over the sun as the plants deformed and grew into each other.
Struggling against the famine and drought, love grew tired of the fight. Finally, he traveller left the valley to rot, uprooting the soil as his heavy feet trudged the path out. This was not the valley he had loved before. This was different in every way, reminding him of what he had lost. Quickly, he left. Before he could ever want to stay, he fled.
Years passed. All those who passed the valley were barred from entering, fear and anger built walls too high to climb. Patiently, the valley waited without reason for the traveller to return. The days drifted on without him, and the valley fell asleep in his absence. Ghosts echoed off the hillside, reminding the valley of all that was, and all that would forever be missed.
Finally when the valley had drifted deeply into shameful dreams, the traveller returned. His eyes burned at the site of the valley and sorrow filled his heart. The dead grass crunched beneath his feet, the air tasted stale on his tongue. He was open to the valley now, but the valley remained shut. Unwilling and unsure, the valley listened to his footsteps as he passed through. Only when the footsteps began to fade did the hills finally awake and scream for him.