And I would linger too long in the high lands, until my hair was thick with wind and even my heart had gone lavishly, lovingly cold. Cold like faery borders. Cold like the moon. I'd have to go back down in darkness, careful on the old dirt road. Not tempted by bells singing at the edges. Not looking for mysterious eyes and a dangerous smile. I'd come almost regretful at last into lamplight, while at my back the night breathed longingly and the moon blinked. And before me -
Before me, an autumn sky, sparrow-sped, calmly blue, polite.