The pale grey dawn broke across the jagged limestone ridges flanking the viaduct outer approach, casting long shadows across the rubble-strewn supply road.
The Watcher stood beside the high ridge above the carriage track, her great frame screening Ash from the wind as she drew her mantle close.
She felt the cool morning breeze upon her living skin, still relishing the simple physical wonder of walking upon untethered feet after the long centuries she had spent anchored to the spent array.
'Centuries keeping a damaged watch alive... and they still build machines that cannot hear an answer unless it is obedience.'
Beside her on the moss, little Ash sat cross-legged with his chin resting in his small, grubby hands, his bright gold-flecked eyes watching a brown beetle crawl over a flat pebble.
The young Guardian Beast wore a simple tunic with rolled sleeves, chewing thoughtfully on a piece of dried pear that Lana had tucked into his pocket before the wagons rolled north.
