Eight: In Which Edith Runs Through the Forest and then Stops Running

To Edith, galloping mournful through the chatter of the forest industries which outskirted the citadel, the cold silence of yonder mauve mountains seemed the only ambiance fitting to her grief. She tore through the woods, shredding her skirts, her tears ricocheting off the glassblowing clockwinding trees -- until she came to a soundless clearing.