They came up out of the dead woods with no notion of where to go next. I'm your huckleberry, shouted. I'm never knowing what that means, said another. They loped their ponies along the roadway. Maybe we'll come upon something which presents a choice, one decided. We can't just keep on down this road. The audience will switch channels. Was that a shot? No. Why not? A sound doesn't have to explain it self to you. It can't just remain silent and still be a sound. The silent one spurred j his Mount forward. Where's he going? Maybe he heard something. You mean, like a sound? That there one spurred his Mount and was gone. Three lonesome riders , strewn along a road. They never found one another, and nobody ever saw any them evermore. But what was that sound?