Writing is never, ever easy but I wake up every morning grateful for the gift of being able to do this.
What mortal knew the way their fate line would run?
What man would dare believe that all he planned might come to pass?
Ice is for death and endings.
Some writers later, describing the events of that night and day, wrote that Wan'yen of the Altai had seen a spirit-dragon of the river and become afraid. Writers do that sort of thing. They like dragons in their tales.
By things so achingly small are lives measured and marred.