Footsteps set the rocks scattering across the ground, while the shadows cloaked the noises in a darkness that amplified. The air moved gently through the branches of the trees who had shed wayward leaves many nights prior. Eventually silence fell as the feet found their way to a surface clear of rock and debris. A pause of silenced moments. Breath suddenly rippled unevenly through the air as the set of feet trod smoothly across with barely a sound.
The surface under them rose and fell in tiny cliffs that would trip up the average walker at night. However, these feet knew each dip intimately. They had stalked this path in daylight and nightlight more times than not. And so the feet made their way to the edge of the surface which squealed with displeasure under them.
The place in front of the feet did not fall in small cliffs or smooth out into something tangible and known. Not now anyway. The edge was darkness and sounds. Below there could be heard the sounds of a far away crowd. A place of restless spirits that had wandered far from their homes whether that time had been a long time ago or not.
They whispered wordlessly of fears and angers and sadnesses. The feet inched closer trying to hear them better, to understand them better. Or perhaps it was actually to hear and understand something else less. Darkness swallowed up any glimpse of the spirits, but the feet knew what was down there. In daylight it was practically harmless, but now? Now the feet yearned for it. To join the crowd.
A pair of hands joined the feet at the edge. They, however, curled under it, glimpsing what was down there. They tried to warn the feet away. They tried to hold the feet back. To explain. To help. The hands disappeared shortly after though, not wanting to be around any longer for fear of being pulled in themselves. It did not seem to occur to them that they were all connected.
This prompted the feet to shuffle closer. Closer and closer. Until half of them were facing down into the darkness listening to the spirits. Only one of the spirits was needed to push the feet the rest of the way, but it would not be the spirits' choice. The feet were to be the ones to decide. The feet were to be the ones to take that step. The feet were to be the ones to meet the spirits. The feet were to be first.
The spirits did not sing louder or frenzy. They never really did. The feet on the occasions that they had been here before would usually try to frighten a noise from them. They would dance on and off the edge teasing the spirits. They would kick rocks at the spirits. They would reach down towards the spirits in hopes that one would grab and take them. Nothing the feet ever did did anything though. The spirits did not care for them, and the spirits wanted nothing from them. Something which comforted and soothed the feet.
This time the feet did not try to frighten the spirits though. They merely gazed towards them. The feet wanted to feel as the spirits did feel. To not care or want as all feet did. They wanted to comfort and sooth like the spirits. And they knew they could do that. They knew that they could join the spirits if they really wanted to. But they also knew there was a price to pay.
The feet had come here tonight with a decision though, and so one of them rose out into the space in front of the edge. Breath exhaled out into the stillness, almost imperceptibly in its last moments. And the feet. The feet met the spirits with a step. And the spirits who had not sung louder or frenzied for the teasing and the abuse and the half-hearted attempts at meeting them, finally moved. They sang a short song that echoed into the night and screamed for a moment as the feet finally met them and the feet no longer cared or wanted. The feet, however, did not comfort or sooth as they had wanted. Because the price to pay to join the spirits was higher than the feet had realized. For they had also took the hands with them.
