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To some, it made little sense to think of the passage of time quantitatively. But a day, a week, and a year were all relative--something subtle may remain constant for years, whereas something dramatic might happen in the blink of an eye. Almost everybody knew the breathtaking length of a second when they laid eyes upon their crush and received a playful look in return, or how hours of monotony could seem like an eternity. Alternatively, aeons could pass in a week, so long as enough was happening--a pack could have a leadership overhaul in less than a day, if there was a violent revolution. Someone's entire way of life could be altered drastically. Indeed, it seemed that the chronological order of major events was a more personal means of considering time's passage.
Thus, although only a month had passed since she had seen Skoll, it seemed much longer. Matrix had accomplished a lot in that cosmically short period of time: she had been promoted in Inferni; she had repaired the door on her greenhouse; she had constructed a wood shed (a sub-room to the greenhouse for other kinds of work, complete with a workbench); she had found a furnace that would solve her heating and glass-blowing or metal-working needs; she had cleaned out all of the scraps, collected fresh soil, tilled it, and dug an irrigation system with her own two paws. She had even found a dolly for the transport of the furnace, but alas--she was still unable to lift it the few meagre inches by herself. If only Skoll could be found.
