Qi-Quang is alone. Although very young, she likes to gather herself in this remote corner of the Jungle, far from the noise of the homins, lulled by a soft breeze on her mask.
A shiver runs through her suddenly; a cold wind has risen around her, an evil wind. But she remains serene. The superstitions of the Trykers cannot frighten her.
A fog rises from the Bark deafening the sounds and blurring the contours.
She closes her eyes, resuming her meditation.
A brush, like a fine lace that settles on her mask makes her jump and look around. But she only sees the beloved landscape, made distant by the fog.
"Ma-Duk loves me, he tests my concentration."
She suddenly puts her hand to her mask: "Ouch!"
Something has scratched her, she can feel the mark on the smooth surface of her mask.
"Who's there??"
But her shout doesn't seem to get through the fog and nothing answers.
She tries to reason: "It is your fear that makes you imagine things! The Kamis are protecting you!"
But as she finishes saying these words, she feels a small tug on her frontal horn. She sweeps the air in front of her. The tug disappears.
"Show yourself!"
Still silence answers her.
The pull this time is more brutal and she brings both hands to her mask.
"No!!"
She leaps to her feet and charges forward, where it seems to her that the fog is less dense.
The calm returns and she slows down, looking for her breath.
The violence of the blow on her horn brings tears to her eyes. She feels as if her horn has been torn off. But no, her hands tell her otherwise.
Fear throws her into a frantic flight.
Finally, the fog disperses. In front of her, the sanctuary of Ma-Duk appears. She is saved.
She collapses in tears. Machinally, she brings her hand to her mask. The scratch has disappeared.
It was only her imagination.
She moves towards Chaoi to tell him her misadventure when her eyes are attracted by a movement at her feet.
Her mask horn rolls towards her as in a sob she palpates her mangled mask.