The darkness came on, gradually, but still too fast for the normal progress of day. This is something that Crackjaw thinks she knows, but time escapes her more often than not. But then, it stayed. And stayed, and stayed, and didn't go away, and the broken girl wondered if maybe it was just her, with her eyes screwed shut, and so she tried the opposite, wandering her tropical home with her father's yellow eyes wide open.

It didn't help.

Which doesn't stop her from trying. It distracts from the trouble brewing in her chest, a feeling of something wrong, something missing, like the cracks in the seashell of her soul have deepened and spread and she is breaking apart. She does not know that fairies have stolen away from her the immortality that has kept her alive so long. She feels time, creeping over her skin, like fingers in the dark, hears it chittering in her ears, under the sand. It is unnerving and strange, but the faraway fog of her mind has always been unnerving and strange, like the sea and the starry sky that copies Aedan's pelt so poorly. The starry sky... her white ears turn back slowly, wide eyes peering up at the clouds. There has not been sun or star for so long she has forgotten how they look.

Perhaps it is the God of Dawn who rules here, who she has not seen him since their first meeting, that is missing. She had asked him for help, but now he is gone and he has taken the day with him. Perhaps it is her turn to help? How do you help a god?

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