Cherry Blossoms Are Dead

Rasha was a ghost and she knew she was because she was so small and weightless. She couldn't be seen anymore most of the time and wandered freely around. She wasn't even dead but she was a spirit- no she was all the spirits. Like the firefly guy, Rasha was now one made of many. She wandered in the darkness and in the mists and they wandered through her likewise. She came upon another. It was still living although it fed on one that was no longer living, the both of them somehow now representing her.

She felt the deer and it's pain in his agony and it's last moments which had been long ago at this point. It watched from beside her then within her as the other wolf toward rotting flesh
"That used to be me," Rasha said, the deer speaking from within her.