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A ghost roamed the ranch. Every time Wild would pass it, he could hear the whispering in the breeze, the shifting of the leaves. The talking of the ghost.
The rumor said that the ghost had been there for thousands of years, desperately searching for something, someone. The ghost never attacked him. All it did was watch, listen and spoke to nobody and everybody. The ghost calls for their lost family, eager to finally be reunited again.
Wild never truly understood the spirit, its words were too quiet and its crying sorrow broke his heart. It says that that ghost waits until the day she can be free.
Until the day she reunites with the one called Wild.
Wild knew, sometimes he thought he could hear the ghost cry his name. His name echoing from her lips and spilling onto the ground like a cascade of water. Until it dries and nothing is left.
She calls im sorrow, the folks say, she is cursed and will never leave. Wild walked towards the ranch, and as he slowly approached, he could hear his name spoken.
The ghost turned towards him, her eyes sulkened and her clothes torn and gracefully flowing behind her.
Her hair, once red and blooming, now dry and grey. A plain ring sat on her index finger and her calloused hands now flickering in the light. Shapes, far duller than the ghost, wandered the place. None could be clearly seen, but they turned towards Wild with expressions familar and yet, new. Sometimes, there are other shapes. All glowing blue. Swords gleam in their scabbards and hats on their heads. Some say that they see a triforce piece glowing on their hands
"Wild" The ghost whispered. "Wild you have finally come." She was home.