A box of silence.

Behind me, my loyal imps laughed with simple, malicious delight at my bumbling move. I looked at them and shrugged, thinking about how little I needed this precious one, when I could put their many hands to use to hold me up....I couldn't stand much longer, especially not when the day of the murdered saint was about to come...the day when all the blood from ancient forbidden love would rain down on the skies and bathe those who found no shelter in one another with unrelenting force...when the winds of bitterness would drive the droplets right into our eyes, into our minds, and make us remember what it was like to hold someone's hand.