Sifting I: Crizzle

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i. *

Somewhere above, as if waiting, the loversuns still shone.
Below that⁠ ⁠—⁠ past all the ash, dust and smoke⁠ ⁠—⁠ the two suns’ light became a vague hint, offering the lake’s surface to the shadows.  And they accepted, waving their shadow tongues, swishing their shadow tails, and enveloping.
Trudging over the crumbly shell of this molten glass lake, you’d tire of the lack of light or company in your first breath cycle.  The Berwem was vast and empty; there was only me and⁠ ⁠—⁠ somewhere I couldn’t see⁠ ⁠—⁠ my companion, Hinte.
Without dropping my prize, I hugged my wings a little closer to myself, and pouted.  I had lost her again… but it was the lake’s fault, not mine.