The Tale of Sir Gallant the Firmhearted
Sir Gallant fell and fell. He stretched out his hands and tried to brace himself for the ground but it did not come. The blackness rushed past his head faster and faster. He could see nothing, feel nothing - only the wind racing past, the blackness through and through him. He could not feel his hands, nor his legs, could not weave the dream. This was it - once he hit the ground it would all be over. He would die here in the blackness. Or would fall forever, spectral fingers tearing at his insides.
