Somewhere a branch cracked, the sound of tearing wood reverberating through Karl's brain. He rolled onto his back, groping the furs for Solacia, but found them empty. He cracked open one eyelid, to search further.

The meadow was bright, the grass rimmed with frost so thick, that the blades of grass looked like fingers. The black coals of the fire likewise rimmed in white. The pool where he had first seen his wife, was as still as silvered glass, reflecting a sapphire sky.