THE Curator of THE Unwritten Contingency waves both hands, and speaks.|
|"Lifeforms look out at the snow and think it is just a grand disaster. They think THE Long Night is only a bad cycle of existence. Very few understand what has actually settled over their heads."|
|"When shapes begin to walk out of the drifts, they scream and they call them Night Lifeforms. You can… consider them agents. Hands sent into the yard to do a job. An ax doesn't hate the timber it splits, and the winter doesn't hold a grudge against the grass. It just sends its workers to clear out whatever went cold."|
|"I can control that agency. I hold the reins now. When the dark steps forward, it only walks where I tell it."|
...!
The hands moved, and the air answered!
