I’m not held back by the lack of moonlight – the fireflies guide me even though I’m unnerved by their flutter. When the fireflies die, as they’re bound to – I’ll follow the sound of the Wolf and the trickle of the night river – streaming over land so cold and dense it sucks the life out of living things that lay on it. I’ll shiver in my armour against the rocks inside the cave. I’ll crawl through unending night to find a beacon no one believes exists until I reach it and set the fire.

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