There was no wind, only a kind of stillness. Like when the air is fair and the fairies are out, and up to no good probably. The stars didn’t shimmer. They shown clearly, no halo to mar their merciless glare upon this fragile earth and its even more fragile inhabitants.
The moon was a silent witness too. Great shining orb peering over one’s shoulder. Seeing what wasn’t meant to be seen, but never telling. There was mischief in the mounds, a scuttling in the scrub of the nethergods, whether gods or no. All wasted effort, nothing but dross now.
There were sprites in the heather. You could see their steamy breath trailing up here and there. Like tendrils of lost dreams, when you glanced away they seeped away and gone, tangible evidence of dreamers now vapors themselves.
Anything could happen on a night such as this. The planets must have alligned when no one was paying attention. The energy was there. It didn’t crackle or creak, sizzle or smolder. But you could feel it like a weightless pressure, there if you closed your eyes. If you believed in that sort of thing.
You just knew the gods were watching now, players in a game where no one would tell you the rules. And you would only find out if they wanted you to, when they wanted you to. Or if not you got thrown out with the leftovers.