Prelude: Selene

This part is from a dream

The top layers of the snow was crusted ice by the northern wind that whipped through the hills and fields. The cold was cutting, it was a miserable start to a winter day. The man wore a sweat stained cowboy hat, and layers of coats down to his wool socks inside scuffed boots. He was leaning over a cow tank breaking the layers of ice with a pick. He was focused on his task so he didn’t hear the girl approach until she was a car length away. She was small and skinny, the clothes she did have hung loose and ragged, an extra large shirt covered her down to her bare calves and feet. The dog with her was massive and its dirty coat was long and unkempt.

The man removed his overcoat and with a wary look at the large dog he tossed it to the little girl. Exclamations and questions twisted together as he tried to articulate his surprise, worry and ask her who she was and why she had no shoes. The girl just stared at him intently searching his face, she gave a sniff. Not a sniff from the cold but as if she could almost smell something and wanted to make sure. Her face and exposed shoulder was scarred, black ink swirled shapes and obscure symbols, the top of what looked like a brand marred her neck.

“I think you're my dad.” She said, her voice flat. The man reeled back as though she had struck him. He dropped to his knees, extending his arms to her.

“Selene?” His voice broke, the girl didn’t run to him she just put her hand on the dog’s head. And spoke one word.

“Home”