It's the dead of morning. Mir's mind is racing too much to sleep. Staring out at the sea, she catches sight of the sky burning above the sea. Reflected in the waters are the burning tails of the brilliant comets. She is not one to think much of the cosmos, with much of it beyond her touch, but for a moment she's caught up with the sight. Showers. Brilliant, bright meteor showers.

She wonders where they might land, if they land at all. And she wonders if there's anyone awake to see this with her. The world is so magical sometimes that she wonders occasionally if her aunts aren't just crazy. But then she remembers the magic is explainable. She just doesn't understand it. Attributing things one doesn't understand to magic is to accept that the world is not to be explained, and she would never do that.

But hell if she's going to admit she doesn't find this awesome. Perhaps it's a sign that she should be here.