We are alone, no one watches from atop mount Olympus- I mean from the sacred offices of Little Orbit. We are left to our own devices. We may pray to the sphere or to the beard which sits upon his face but all seems for naught, for us children are easily led astray, it feels as if there is no shepherd to watch over, many wolves are within out midst because the watchdog of a single battle'd eye is now closed, or at least, is cataract-ed. Once there was another watchdog that went by, hmm, Eac? Yes, that was it. Echoes in the wind of the Matt helping us in our trials and tribulations but nay, all they hath been for as long as any of us can remember were but that- echoes; with not much to cast our hope upon. We continue to lessen in number each day, but does the Gods upon their lofty thrones even look upon us or are they too 'busy'...