Le Loyon. The Ghost of Maules. Mysterious cryptid, public oddity, gone missing once some light was shed on its existence. It left behind a letter, shaming the people who had bothered its presence with their nosiness. Never seen again.

Le Loyon was not an it. Not to you, anyway. Once you heard of Le Loyon’s existence, you were obsessed. Once you heard of Le Loyon’s disappearance, you decided you needed to find it. No, not it. Him.

It didn’t take long. Three-ish days of hiking around in the depth of the woods of Switzerland. Picking a few flowers but leaving some for the thing you were looking for. You wanted answers. You wanted to know things about Le Loyon, but most of all, you wanted to let him know he was safe with you, if not with anyone from your home.

You stopped just twenty feed from where you saw him. The tall figure in a camouflage coat, black pants, yellow rubber rain boots. Black pants. Gas mask. Immediately your hand tightens around the flower crown you had crafted for him. You halted in your tracks, debating on what to say. Finally, you call out a greeting.

Le Loyon, startled, looks up at you. In that fraction of a second, you have never been happier. Then he scampers away, and you have to chase after him.