" Dianna looked at the moon. That night it was barely a crescent cradling earthshine, a white wisp of silk or a sliver of creamy birch bark. Incomplete, but there. It would grow, as night-blooming jasmine would grow, or a blot of spilled milk, or a hillside gathering snow. "

― Marissa Byfield , The Soft Fall (Lunar Siege Book 1)