Startled, she turns and see the owl perched like a ghost on a pole in front of a lodge. It is the lodge of her grandfather. As she slowly moves toward this ghostly presence, he turns and looks at her with an all-knowing stare. Unsure, she reaches out to him as he disappears. At dawn, she awakens.
Sunlight dances down through the faint smoke rising up from the still-smoldering lodge fire.
She lies comfortably in her warm bed of soft buffalo robes and deer skins. And, as she watches the smoke drifting up through the shafts of light, she starts to remember. Shadowy thoughts at first, running though her mind. Fleeting images, mysterious, yet familiar. Memories of sights and sounds that seem so real, yet unreal, meaningful or meaningless.