The Old Man Of the Forest became ill. Thinking his days to be coming to an end, he lay down against a big tree, older than himself. He bid his offspring farewell, and sent them away, to walk their own paths.
“I have lived long and well.” He said to himself. “I depart this world in peace.”
And so the pain of death overtook him, and he faded away and died.
But a small part of him did not die. That small part of him remained there sitting beneath the old tree, and he slept, and rested, and regained strength. And when he awoke he was surprised to be still alive.
He stood and looked around him, and felt the bark of the tree, and felt the breeze through his hair. These things felt familiar to him. “Is this what it feels like to be dead?” He wondered.
So he walked through the forest, and his body felt strong, but his spirit felt powerless, and he was somewhat frightened.