Swiftcurrent Creek August slipped away into a moment in time.

She saw him there: a shadow beneath the tree. Eyes hard, staring to the earth. He was as empty as the den, an extension of the shadow from within it. So sad, thought Ibis of this man. Her spectral shape drifted closer; she barely touched the earth, with only leaves trembling as she passed through them. Come now, sing with me? She asked the birds as they watched, and they only took wing instead.

This did not mar Ibis' smile. She looked carefully upon the man, though there was no recognition within her. Her smile did falter though, because she thought that the man looked so tired, and that empty den was less a den and more a resting place. Had he risen, like her? But he was not a spirit; he was a body, she could see him breathing.

Maybe he had risen, but he was empty. Maybe she was the spirit because she had nowhere to go.

Don't be sad, she murmured softly against his cheek, and spared a kiss there. You're alive.