As she got to her feet, she saw the horse – past calling, that one. She was near then; she stepped over the cruelly angled neck, searching. Yes. The calling ebbed; she knew Kendra was here. Kendra limped away from the horse to the huddled body – two bodies. She could feel the calling here: not in the limp mortality at her feet, but tangible in the rain and trees. Kendra trembled. This should not be possible. She was already dead, and yet she still called. Kendra knelt cautiously beside the tangled bodies. The rain was already dispersing the blood. She pulled gently at the nearer body. It rolled easily, unconsciously, away from the other; but the hands were tangled together with those of her companion, tightly caught. Kendra felt for the flicker of life as she prised the fingers away. It was there, just, but there was something more pressing in her mind. Kendra needed to know who called her.
