Moonspear stage 1: denial

Did he hear her? Perhaps not—he was no spring chicken, anymore, and could have gone deaf. But the rapidity with which he departed made her think that it was more than that.

This was outright rejection.

Mou! Maegi called, and then took off after him. 

One fine thing about being incorporeal was the lack of limitations. The piles of leaves to slow paws, the thickly-lined trees to hinder progress—none of this mattered to a ghost, who could slip through the forest without a care.

Still, he was quick in his madness.

Mou, please, just stop, she found herself begging, her voice high and clear where once, it would have been breathless with exertion.