Midnight looks much the same as any other time of day now. You look up at the sky, pensive and feeling homesick, and it was as black as you remembered it this morning. The cold nips at your ears and you've long given up on your legs, and you wonder distantly if you'll ever see something resembling a sun again.
As you trot through the darkness, guided by your nose, you note the peculiar absence of smells in the air. Did Runes have a smell? Even the fissures were strangely odorless, more of a pressing, electric feeling than anything else as one got closer to them.
You stifle a curse as your paw slams into something hard. Looking down, you're quite startled to see something blue glowing back at you from beneath the snow, and for a moment you're certain it's a fissure opening up to swallow you whole -
- but no. It pulses softly, and you brush away the snow to find precisely the thing that odd voice was talking about.
Lucky you.