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WHEN A BOY CHEATS DEATH, it is impossible for Fate not to notice.

Shattered glass like rain that winks in the dying sun. Air bitter with the scent of already-burnt rubber. A losing battle with consciousness.

Here lies a dreamer on the precipice of an endless slumber.

Fate may be a cruel bystander, but the forest cannot bear to watch. Trees weep their leaves, deer and elk mourn in silence. Owls lower their heads and hum softly.

The river whispers of Death's undoing.

The forest calls to him. And it rains.

He feels himself become the centre of a fierce embrace. At first, it feels like the forest itself, arms of wood and moss and warmth despite the cold water that seeps beneath his skin. But then it becomes something human. His father? No. He doesn't know, but the pain eases in his chest.

And then he wakes.

- ✧ -

WHEN A BOY FALLS PREY TO FATE, it is impossible for Death not to notice.

Through the static of a radio, he listens. He hears a voice. A song? He can't decipher it.

He shouldn't be here.

He closes his eyes. His ears fill with the sound of rainfall tapping against already damp leaves, a thousand hushed voices from a body of water travelling and replenishing itself endlessly. He hears someone. Himself? No. He can't hear over the rush of water; it begins to drag him under. He reaches out blindly until he finds something to hold on to. A tree or a rock, or something other. He doesn't know, but his chest tightens.

And then he sleeps.