The forest shelters him for a time, but eventually someone finds him.
He sees her approach out of the corner of his eye at first. A small, wayward girl, he thinks dismissively, not Gail, not her. The ghost-boy retreats further under the canopy, sure the other will pass by and he will remain unnoticed. But her steps bring her ever-closer. Their eyes meet, and he becomes sure that she is, in fact, heading towards him. Ramiel moves forward to intercept her, not realizing until after that he phases through the bushes between them in order to do so. He hesitates then. She is only a young girl, and though he recognizes her face, such unusual movements might still frighten her. If he hadn’t already experienced the land of the dead and everything in between, he knows he might have been frightened. Now, little can scare him. Or so he thinks.
Once she’s close enough, he realizes that he does know her. Knows those ever-changing eyes, knows that slight build that makes her appear younger than she probably is. He knows that she is the girl from the quest – but the one thing he doesn’t know is her name. Instead of commenting on their recent jaunt seemingly outside of reality, he simply gives her his name. “Ramiel. How about you?” The grey colt steps even closer, encouraged by the way she seems to accept his appearance (or at least, she doesn’t run away). And though he hadn’t considered that others might not be so open until that very moment, it’s comforting to think that they might.
Her voice is softer than he expected, like birdsong or mousetalk. Used to the boisterous range of his sister and the smooth iron of his mother’s voice, Ramiel has to almost strain to hear it. He thinks about her question, but it doesn’t take him long to find the answer. “I suppose I am.” He concentrates on his solid self then, imagining his actual skin until it becomes visible once again. Mastery of this strange shifting is coming easy to him. He’s glad, because he doesn’t fancy waltzing into the Dale and frightening anyone. Not until he’s explained himself, anyway. “At least sometimes.”
The grey hesitates for a breath before voicing a new worry. “Do you think that means I’m both alive and dead sometimes, too?” Concern for a thought he’s not considered until that moment furrows his brow as he looks questioningly at the bay girl. He smells the Jungle on her (recognizing it from her sister Ea, though of course he doesn’t know their relation). He knows that the Dale and the Amazons are friends, knows that his brother will soon join them in the mountain kingdom. Someday, maybe, he will see the mysterious jungle for himself. But for now, he’s more interested in the daughter of that place – interested in the repercussions of the quest they shared. “Did Gail follow you back? I had hoped to find her here.”
r a m i e l
what a day to begin again