This young man spoke to me the other night. I've seen him walking many nights but I've not had anything to tell him. I called to him and he called back, "Owl man." Or, was it "Owl-man?" Anyway, I found it most curious that he should speak to me to eagerly. He prayed that I had no more news of dead loved ones. . . He hoped it so intensely that I could not help to try to console him. He seemed not to have anyone else, but he pushed me away in much the same manner as anyone before him. His father had yelled at my father when he had had a message to deliver. His father had not wanted to hear the news. He and his father are as different as I from my own - perhaps, that is why I am drawn to him? Is he to become a messenger? I cannot say. I know not how long my family has been cursed to live our lives this way nor can I recall how my ancestors breached nature's secrets as to become what we are. We were human, once. I did not experience this directly.
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