The Glazier always returned to her duties at night – gathering and disposing of the shards of glass that littered the earth on the Edge’s borders. The sharp pieces were always hard to spot in the moonlight, but Glasgow found comfort in the dark blanket that covered the pale mare, hiding her scars as it swallowed the night. She almost felt normal. It was within nights like these that she felt it was easier to avoid conversation with others, to stay quiet and continue without the possibility of distractions. She could also reminisce over her past life – of being someone that enjoyed talking and the simplicities of life before the gods turned their backs on her. She could think about all the things she thought she’d learn, of all the places she would have visited, of the position she’d have now.

But they were long gone, distant fairytales of other lands. And on this night, she simply mused quietly to herself as she carried a large piece of bark that had fallen off one of the trees, piling the little glinting pieces of glass on them and dragging them along as she went. The silence was beautiful to her, and of course she imagined that if there was silence, there wasn’t any immediate dangers. Though, to be honest, even if there were the Glazier probably wouldn’t care what happened to her. Of course, she always thought these ideas when nobody was around. When faced with possibilities, she shied away as usual.

That’s what happened when she heard the faint sound of someone talking.

She approached quietly and slowly, peering from beneath the dark depths of the many trees that shrouded the Edge’s borders, spying on whomever had uttered simple words into the silent night. Her glassy gaze was quick to spot the figure of the creature. Her body was pale, as was the Glazier’s, but there was something youthful about her appearance. And suddenly, she thought it best to stay hidden among the trees. Not wanting to approach on a dark night with mutilation scarring each part of her face and eyes. She’d rather not become some sort of horror story the child told her friends of the time she snuck out.

“What are you doing out here so late?” She called out to the stranger – her voice raspy and low, full of a shivering cold as if Glasgow wanted to try and frighten the girl away. However, she still remained behind the trees, finding comfort in the shadows with their long stretched hands as she spoke to the girl.

"Talk."