It had been a strange thing, to be stirred from that deep sleep. He could remember very little of what had occurred. The memories had come gradually, as he wandered from the shore of that river and into the darkness. He had not realized the cold was not bothering him, nor that his breath did not show, not until he had realized how unearthly quiet his own footfalls had been. And that was when he remembered; he could remember dying, yes. Not completely, but he remembered enough. For what felt like forever he simply stood there, not making a sound, not moving an inch. The reality of the situation was too heavy, too fucking real. He shut his eyes and opened them again. Damian was unaware that they were glowing without giving off light. He barely recognized the fact he was semi-transparent. There was no reason he could think of for his being here. None at all. The forest was unchanged, the sky the same soul-black night it had been when he had died. Almost without his conscious will the beast was moving again, two feet falling over the forest ground. The path was wide and could he feel, the hoof prints under it might have been noticed. But all that had come to him, in what would have been his sixth year, was her face. Misery. Misery as she had been, when he had fallen in love with her, and as he had always seen her. Even while she fell into that pit with him, while he dragged her down, she had been beautiful. And regret came, but it was faint. Everything seemed so faint, really. Without the ability to feel pain, he was lacking in most of the other emotions that came. But he still felt something, so perhaps that was why he went to where his senses took him. That gypsy ribbon of a road fell to forest again, and soon the red eyed male was before his den. He couldnt smell, so he had no idea if she was there. But he did know because he could feel her in there. That tug remained, that chain that bound them. He could not smell the child, nor the male, and didnt stir from where he stopped moving. She would come. The wind that did not move him and did not carry his scent told him that. Now that he was dead, those trees were speaking his language. And they told him that she would know, as she has always had known. So he did nothing. He waited.