Tilly gazed down at the familiar mountains, sand-rivers, and sand-seas. A great homesickness washed over her, and she realized that she would miss the moon, with its sparkling sands of striping grades. She cried a little while, but then she settled down to her knitting. Her hands felt sluggish on the needles. It was so very cold up here, and the longer she floated, the heavier she felt. She found herself dropping stitches, something she hadn't done since she had been a hatchling. As the pressing sensation grew worse, she tucked her needles away and wrapped the newly knitted cloth around her hands. She longed for this journey to end.

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