VII – A Dark Interlude: in which Darkness herself comes across Morien’s dreaming body and is like woah. The dark waxes wan, the dark waxes red. Light is emitted from things that are dead:

Every eye in the forest has slipped into the gutter of the face. The world is changing hands: waking and falling swap rings. Morien’s body speaks to the thin high black he sleeps in. For many years this black has sat and spoken with badger stripes, caves, prehistoric cockatoos, but never a Morien. Black hands, […]