[ All is silent for a long moment, save for the creaking of the boards that make up the ship and the slow, soft crackling of ice. The naiads do not seem bothered by the presence of this ship, though they move out of its way into parts of the river where it will not pass -- deep waters and shallows it cannot touch. There is no answer until the bark of a dog sounds from the ship, an alert responding to her call and the seeming disinterest of its master.

Back through the darkness comes a voice, slow and steady. ]

There are always things in the dark places. That is especially true in this world.

[ The ship slows, turns. There is a splash from one side, something heavy having hit the water -- the drop of the anchor. And then there is a man, or a thing shaped like a man, appearing quite suddenly along its side and leaning over the railing to look at her. ]

You are marked, though I do not know by what. Of all the beings in this world, you should have seen dark things.

[ That was the way of those chosen. They were picked and their lives had higher highs and lower lows, brighter lights and gripping, terrible darkness. ]

Would you like to come aboard? I will not harm you.

[ As if to punctuate this thought, there is another bark, and then a small dog shape can be seen scrambling up to the figure. Either the dog is a small breed or it's a pup; in the dark, it can be hard to differentiate. ]