Marble Basin in winter is a lesson in isolation even for those of us who pretend not to mind solitude. With the █████ ████████ ███████ shut tight under the snow, the already small town folds in upon itself as it is cradled by mountains and muffled by the kind of silence you only find when the world is iced over. Power flickers. The internet is a suggestion more than a guarantee. Sometimes I think the river’s steady white noise is the only reliable connection we have to anything outside and then the dang thing freezes over.

This means my writing pace has slowed to a crawl. I know some of you check for new chapters fairly often (thank you, truly), and I’m sorry for the erratic posting schedule lately. It’s not just the technical issues - though losing progress thanks to the generator hiccuping is even more annoying than it sounds - it’s the way winter changes everything out here. Time stretches. My thoughts wander. It’s easier to lose hours to cataloging obscure █████ ████████ legends than it has been to wrangle my story into something coherent enough to share. Not to mention just how busy everyone has been dealing with some of the nastier issues "That Thing Under the Mountains" has been stirring up.

Still, there’s something about this hush that feels right for storytelling. Maybe it’s the long shadows or the way the stars seem closer whenever the power goes out during the night. I promise I’m still writing, just slower. Just like that river underneath all that ice. Thank you for your patience and for reading at all. Seeing all the comments and favorites and theories and emails never fails to brighten up my day every single time. I promise that the next chapter is being worked on and that it will be out sooner rather than later.

Thank you all for your continued support~