The moon lay on a bed of darkness, and blackened clouds drifted slowly past. Its silvery light illuminated a verdant lawn, reflecting on bronze insects scurrying through the grass.
A beetle with intricate design floated onto a red streak of crimson hair but was shooed away by a calloused hand.
"I hate those things," Revan said, lying on the ground for some reason.
"Oh, you hate everything with six legs," Penelope replied, resting by his side.
"I have a reason," Revan sighed. "Bad memories."
"You are no longer there. It's time to rest, honey."
"To me, it's like I am always there," Revan observed the flying insect. "Still swinging, still killing."
A shimmering light lined the beetle's wings, chipping a tiny part. For a moment, it lost balance before steadying itself.
"Because I know, I'll keep going. This, this is just a break."
