Sometimes when she sleeps, she hears noises in the darkness.... noises that are not really noises at all so much as sensations she can hear with her mind. When it's cold and dark because the fire has gone out, he comes to her and tells her fragments of her destiny. She knows he has wings, because she hears them stir the air, but she also knows that these wings are not made of any earthly material. Feathers, fur, or leather would rustle. These wings -- they -- just -- sigh.

Once upon a time, he told her all about glass and its nature. He explained how glass is merely stone reconfigured and made fragile. He explained how all of our souls are made from the skulls of gods in this same fashion, unfathomable strength spun out thinly and made painfully beautiful, but only at the loss of strength itself. One's soul has all the properties glass has because it is glass. It can be transparent as windows or reflective as mirrors, but it's existence is always this tenuous. This is why when existence in walking terra cracks your soul, you can mend it, but it will never be the same. It's only glass, you see, and being built of glass is our punishment for walking ever upon the back of our mother.

She tries to ask questions, to say that she doesn't understand so that she may remember when the sun comes up. One day, he says, when you have wings that sigh, you will. And with that, he is gone.

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