Whitebark Stream We had already scorched the Earth once.

It surprised him a little, to learn that Connor had not experienced the beauty of the Aurora. Artyom blinked at him as the boy gazed wide-eyed in his direction, then smiled as he turned his dark eyes skyward.

"They are rays of colourful light that choose to appear in clear night skies," he shared, "that sweep and dance in a beautiful display." Artyom breathed deep the crisp Winter's air and exhaled in a pale plume as he hoped, silently, that he might someday be able to share them with his children. "I hope they find you one day, Connor. You won't be disappointed."

He could speak of the heavens' dancing lights tirelessly, but was loathe to share too much that might ruin what could be such a wonderful surprise. So the duo settled with quiet talk of what their night sky offered before parting ways, with relief in Artyom's heart to have made amends.