I ran for hours, until my feet ached and my lungs burned. I grew darker and darker as the evening wore on. Eventually, I was tripping over roots and stones. I tumbled once, falling down a six-foot high ledge and crashing into leaves below. I recognized that, despite my desire to get away, I could no longer run safely. I would need to rest. I crawled under the ledge, too tired to even shelter myself or even think.
The sun woke me early the next morning, and I felt an instant stab of panic. For some reason, I suspected the Hayalet were around me. That they had tracked me during the night and were set to pounce. I honestly did not know what it was that I feared. I suppose part of me figured that, enraged by my breach of trust, the Hayalet would descend upon me and kill me. I knew the were fearsome warriors and, what's more, deeply wary of being exposed to the outside world. It was entirely possible that would die.