On a remote coomb of the Jura, the sun has just set. The darkness gains, a small mist stagnates in the depths. The autumn twilight seems to be getting drowsy, but suddenly everyone, men and animals, shudder: a cavernous rattle rises from the edge of the forest, swells and stretches in the freshening air. On the forearms, the hairs bristle and the heart knocks in the chest.
The time of an evening, we will leave to the meeting of the master of the peaks to relive the emotions of the origins and to raise a corner of the veil on its lovemaking.
