Tohamaru

You're lying face up, feeling the cold dirt under your back. My body is numb, and my arms and legs are heavy. You slowly open your eyes and see a gray, heavy sky, low-hanging clouds. The field around is torn apart by the rain: the earth is cracked, the grass is flattened and dirty. Nearby there is a stream with muddy water, cold and unpleasant.

The moat you fell into is deep and narrow, its edges are collapsing and crumbling. Dirt leaves marks on your face and hands. You look up, but you see only gray space and sparse silhouettes of trees in the distance.

You feel pain in your head, back, and legs, but the heart hurts the most — from fear and misunderstanding. You know you need to get up, but your body refuses to obey. You close your eyes, hoping it's a dream, but when you open them again, you see the same gloomy picture.

The sky gets a little lighter and you see the silhouette of a samurai riding a white horse.