Sadness, anger, and guilt all tore at her mind incessantly, each one of them warring for control over the others in such a frenzy the ghost believed her head was going to burst because of it. Even the chill of the water didn’t seem to help. It was an
odd sound though, that her ears took note of, which grounded her, for a moment.
The thudding of paws racing across the ground, the sound of a body plowing through the frozen, dead stalks of grass that surrounded her. Toward her, too. Then, a scent. Easily recognizable despite the years that’d passed. By the time she even thought to glance back, good eye focusing only momentarily on a familiar tawny figure,
he was already charging down the bank and into the water.
Run. It was the only thing the ghost could think to do, so she launched forth, heading for the bank opposite the one
he had approached from. She didn’t know how he was here, but he
could not see her like this. It would be too much.
Surprising herself, Colette cleared the stream and ascended the opposite side in a few leaping strides, but she did not get very far beyond that. It was always the eye. Something she couldn’t see, that got in the way. Just like the day she’d met Reika, in her desperation, she overlooked something.
Her paws slipped in the snow and ice, and she’d earned another face full of snow and dead grass.
He would be on her soon, because of it. She did not try to move, and only sought to shield her face with her forelimbs, wrapping them around her nose and face, before burying it as far as she could in snow and dead grass. She did not want
him to see her hideous face, or the hot tears gathering in her eyes.
Turn around, walk away. But she knew he wouldn’t.