““Sometimes, it felt as though the darkness stared back at her—and the face it wore was her own. Beneath the dark, she could have sworn she heard the rushing of a half-frozen river, swollen with melting snow off the Staghorns. A flash of white, the thud of hooves on soft earth, and Celaena looked up from the ravine. The stag had come closer, his head now angled, as if inviting her to join him. But the ravine only seemed to grow wider, like the maw of a giant beast opening to devour the world. So Celaena did not cross, and the stag turned away, his steps near silent as he disappeared between the tangled trees of the ageless wood.””
