A cool breeze whipped at the hem of her red dress, and shook her hair into tendrils that grasped and snapped at the air. Though the night was cold, and her clothing thin and her feet bare, it was not enough to discourage her from her mission. The moon harvest awaited her. All crescent, all glowing, matching the one in the sky. All essential, all needed, and potent. They were only here now, tonight, and then gone. She must gather them now, or reap the consequences. – Emily Kinney