The Moon, she was stoned-red that night of the winter solstice. A night when the sky was dark and the winds were still.
The large copper marble that she was held high to the North; her horns ominous of the times at hand.
For this night, the dream was dead, and his faith awaited the ultimate test.
A rebirth was to come, and with it, growth would follow.
But first, a series of trials and tribulations.
A blessing it could be if he is true to heart and strong of will.
Only time would tell.
And she, the Moon, crimson and cold on this lunar eclipse - the very cause to his madness... or the cure to his dreams.
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