Shadowwyn Moor teach us things about our own tongue

the land was cold, flat, barren. torn. and merrick found it above all places fitting for him to lie this evening.
the stars were covered by cloud, and so offered the boy no distraction. he slipped from the borders like a wraith, and cast himself down in the ic-rimed moor. she had gone. both of them had gone, and while it had been he who had refused to go, indra's depature was a knife in his gut, a blade he wished desperately to escape.
but tadec had gone too, had he not? and merrick had not mourned him half as much. the boy sighed against the frozen earth. terance was to take care of them, but a bitterness rose to choke him — he needed no one. only nunataq, though he had grown wary. perhaps she would leave him too.