Here, I was attempting to qualify the beauty of stars. Sir Belvedere Wainthrop is an ongoing character. He is a hero, but a man undervalued for all except his physical prowess. Only his best friend, Albert Chambers, sees him differently.
Night hung like a loose drape baggy around the edges. In great swathes of undulating black, a wannabe obsidian sky attempted to shake off shades of charcoal, lead and gloom, and failed spectacularly.
"Ashen," said Sir Belvedere.
"Oh, nothing, just remarking on the sky, Albert."
"Did you say ashen?"
"Yes. I have seen skies like this too many times in my life, those smeared by war."
"I can only imagine."
"I wouldn't if I was you. War is a terrible thing. At times, one had only the stars to look forward to. This excuse for an evening reminds me of them."
"Then, I should suggest an alternative."
"And that is?"
Albert poured a glass of burgundy for each and held it aloft. "Drink to the dawn, Bells, for our sun is harder to banish an altogether more formidable foe."
"Even if it does take too long to rise."
"Yes, my friend, even then."