Once, on a cold winter's day some time ago, Kune had encountered a ghost. This ghost looked like him and spoke like him, and was as convincingly realistic as any horse he’d ever seen. She spoke of events that were eerily familiar yet did not quite make sense, she comforted him, and she cried real tears. Yet Kune, fresh on the islands and carrying a wound that ran far deeper than a cut on the flesh, had been overwhelmed by her presence. Rather than accepting her as a sign from the spirits, he took her as evidence of his curse, and he fled from her the first chance he got.
At some point he had realized his mistake, but it was slow to dawn on him. Even when it did, he was too far away, too lost in a land he did not know, to rectify his mistake. He travelled through mountains, forests, and clearings with no purpose and no direction, and when he reached the coast, he turned around and went back the way he'd come. Once, he nearly froze to death in a blizzard, and then he nearly broke his leg in a fall from a ridge and walked with a limp for weeks. But then, one cold winter's day, he came across a clearing that looked eerily familiar. With a prayer under his breath, Kune searched the area, pacing up and down the tree line over and over, until by chance he finally caught sight of it: a break in the trees. A little sheltered thicket hidden away from the rest of the world.
Kune's heart hammered as he inched into the small space, bare branches raking against his side. This was the place he had met her all that time ago, yet it was utterly abandoned, with no sign or scent of anyone that had passed by here recently. Kune lifted his eyes to the grey sky for a long moment, considering. Then he lowered his bulky frame to the ground, to rest among the sticks and leaf litter. Even if his hopes were unfounded, this was a safe place that would give him shelter from the sharp winter winds. For now, he would wait.
Jsi tam venku? Nebo jsi byl opravdu jen duch?
8; kladruber; black; 17.2hh
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