Light trot accompanied by a light breeze, And soft moors dotted with bones and pieces of iron that no longer shine. Years of wind, precipitation, and time—minute by minute, bite away particles from this place. Thousands of insects and organisms placed their time legs on the rocks, making hundreds of thousands of tiny roads that corroded everything around them. It all builds up to a microclimate that brings the light breeze. 

— Wait a bit, — Cerridwen slowed down then eventually stopped, as if unintentionally. She admired the monotonous landscape around her, sucked in the air with her nostrils as if trying to absorb the beauty of this place. Trefoils, in turn, admired her. Cerridwen looked so relaxed. As if the moored depths of the dungeon were not bothering her at all. She came here for beauties and beauties only. Then, she nodded to herself and continued on her way.

Then Trefoil noticed that the black cat's tail swayed dissatisfied. And the wasteland around froze motionless, silently, lifelessly.

— You know, I miss the forge most of the time. You know, I was born there. You know.

— Shh, I know, I know—she smiled with the most calming and reassuring smile of all. — Mores are beautiful too, you know? I prefer to seek and find beauty everywhere I go. Cerridwen lightly pushed her shoulder into his and continued walking and talking, effortlessly trying to distract Tails from the stiff atmosphere. 

— You shouldn’t let them notice how afraid you are. — The quietest whisper into his ear. — Tell me more about the forge; I don’t remember when I was there last time. Guild contracts these days carry me whenever a coin drops.

And bright stars danced in his eyes. He talked and talked while the sparks of the forge ignited, extinguished, and lived small lives while he talked about his own life. Cerridwen burst with laughter when they told her Tyffyn's remark about Alcone he heard the other day. He was pleased to make her laugh. Trefoil promised to show her every stone where he broke his knees. How he was scared during the hellhound hunt. Tail shared every bit of their short but bright life; Cerridwen laughed a lot. And her laugh, step by step, brought back the life that was silenced in that weird triangle of still time. 

— Better tell them stories; maybe they won’t follow you next time because they will think they already know everything about you.

— Who?! They?!