We walk, and we carry on walking across the lengths of this desolate world. Counting the stars and the steps taken, blistered feet and weathered minds. Something whispers in our ears during those cold, shivering nights; when the winds howl and the true wild sleeps. Bodies close, resting together, living as one like an ant colony. Needing the heat and needing to acknowledge those distinctive, most personal leads. There are days when the sun pours down, and days when the steaming rain beats silt and sand. Looking to the horizon and into the deep valleys – onwards towards an outpost, hope in hand of the life that might dutifully follow. For we live in desperate, yet revered hope.