When she lifts her head to look at him, her dark eyes shining in the cold grey light, Kune experiences a ripple through his body. The disbelief in her face that mirrors his own, her strong nose that speaks of their shared heritage, her oh-so-familiar and comforting accent, her scent thick in his nostrils… it all hits Kune like a physical force. He has felt so empty for so long, the sensation of strong emotion is almost foreign, almost overwhelming to him. For several long moments, he cannot speak.
Kune takes a step closer, his eyes dropping to roam the details of her body, examining every hair just as he had the first time they’d met. It’s then he sees that she is smaller, somehow: leaner, lesser, as if something has taken its toll on her body and spirit. He wonders if perhaps he is remembering wrong - if she had always looked this way, and he had simply been too blinded by grief and superstition to see her as she really was - which is certainly possible. Yet, somehow, in seeing her this way now Kune feels a little more certain that he’s not hallucinating her, that she is flesh and blood just like him.
Kune finds himself coming even closer to her: right to the treeline, with her looking in and him looking out, like two souls meeting at the threshold between worlds. They are so close he can see his own reflection in her glassy eyes. Hardly daring to breathe, he reaches out slowly, inch by inch, until he has touched her warm nose with his own. At the instant of contact he squeezes his eyes shut, as if the touch has caused him pain; when he opens them again, his eyes are shining with unshed tears.
“Božena,” he begins in their mother tongue, his voice soft and low, “how did you know I was waiting for you? Who are you?”
8; kladruber; black; 17.2hh
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