That is when he comes. A stag, a beautiful stag white as starlight, with evergreen eyes and antlers so tall, Basia is afraid they will get stuck in the trees. When he walks, he leaves no marks on the woodland soil, and when Liska reaches out to touch his head, her hand goes through him as though he is made of mist. This is the strangest part of it all: every time Liska meets the stag, she tries to touch him. Every time, her hand passes through. Until one night, one rainy spring night, it does not.
