We needed a break, a long sleep. Space to let our dreams wonder and collect the pieces that the day lost. The wizard is off chasing his muse, something about a red dragon. It's pointless to try to understand his direction or purpose. As useless as the weather vane keeping a grudge against the northern winds. Our existence is enough of a reason to keep the adventure going. Our heels are now warm, the sands have become soft. Too soft for us to continue, our bags are heavy, and it makes walking similar to fighting an army. This small foothill will be our sanctuary, and when our eyes aren't as heavy, we will look further. The sky becomes orange this time of night. I think it does that to flirt with the moon. Such contrast. Such hope. I will lay still for you, I won't fight, and I will thank you when you conquer me. Goodnight 

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