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“Somewhere between the days and nights that passed of his crying beneath the boughs of the white tree, Malachite found the jewels--her necklace and her bracelet. But not the ring. And that gave him the only hope he could cling to. Her ring--she still had it, maybe. She had said to wait for her. So he would. He would, until the end of the world again.” — Sara Wolf
Somewhere between the days and nights that passed of his crying beneath the boughs of the white tree, Malachite found the jewels--her necklace and her bracelet. But not the ring. And that gave him the only hope he could cling to. Her ring--she still had it, maybe. She had said to wait for her.
So he would.
He would, until the end of the world again.