Emptying Pockets : A Musebox

The sky was as blue as a silk scarf. Only the faintest flush of peach clung to the horizon above the black line of trees. The moon was a sliver of light, the thin cut of a razor. The stars were already bright, but night was just beginning. Like black ink on wet paper, the darkness had just begun to bleed down from the zenith of the sky, quickly eating into the blue.  Soon there would be nothing but black, horizon to horizon, a hand folding over the earth.

In her own hand she held a lantern, one of the new expensive electric kinds. It cast more favorable shadows as she scanned the ground for wood. Oh yes, she had told him she needed to gather wood, but in truth she also needed to clear her head. Get out on her own for a bit.

( tl;dr, ttly more words here )