Blacktail Deer Plateau coming to a close, we're down by ten.

Daylight all summer? Moonstone would have rather died than have had to sit through that, but she figured that if it meant she'd get an entire season of darkness, a short trip might someday be in order. Maybe I'll go one day, she breathed, more for her own ears than for Grayday's. It was a sort of affirmation; speak it into existence. Moonstone found that she'd had a habit of forgetting things recently, but she would hate to forget about this winter wonderland.

Talking about her infancy wasn't something that Moonstone found particularly difficult, though it normally came with a bit of hesitation. There was something about Grayday's presence that reassured her, however, and she felt safe telling him all that she'd been hiding inside. It hurt, she whispered, looking back at him, It hurt a lot. When I was really young, I remember crying constantly, since we were always on the move. No one knew what was wrong with me, and if it hadn't been for my mother protecting me the way she did, my father would have demanded they leave me. She wouldn't have been angry if he had; the whole came before the individual.

Eventually I learned how to talk and I could tell them why I was screaming, but most of them didn't want to help. They thought I was defective, like dead weight. I had to do a lot of healing on my own, but I think it was important that it happened that way. Moonstone thought back to the fire, the way that the flames seemed to taunt her. She couldn't look to see their dying faces, but she could hear their calls loud and clear. She could have helped them, she thought, but now they were dead, and there was nothing to be done about it.