Riverkeep

Every entry was the same. To Pappa this was priceless - a means of creating something that would stand forever as a monument of pride and respectability. To Wull it was a prison of worlds - repetitive, rotting words.

But Wull could never think of the river as something living.

' It's cold .'
Pappa laughed, releasing a stinging breeze of lakoris tobacco.
' That's no' cold.Cold is when yer eyeballs scratch when ye blink, when it hurts to breathe.Ye'll be Riverkeep soon. Ye'll get used to that quick enough.'
' I'm no ' Riverkeep yet,' said Wull. Never, he thought.

Ice meant winter and darkness, and for water-folk a new kind of danger.