A moment came of stillness, an instant of bright clarity in which Dayraven perceived the life around him with a new crispness. His senses sharpened, and the world unveiled itself for the first time. There were the musty trees on the edges of the grassy lea with their translucent green foliage, the glaring summer sun warming his body, the pungency of his sweat, the iron tang of the red blood beading on his hand, the wind’s whisper, and the song of the distant thrush.
