Thank you Livvyinthelife

In the end, the weak wind won, snuffing the flame, but not without sending a spark drifting across the room like a lazy firefly. It landed on the worn lace of weathered curtains, flaring brightly, as though to salute his fallen brother. From white to brown to black, the lace withered under the attack. The wind blew once more, breathing new life into what it once tried to kill.

I’ll tag @Labyrinthia Mythweaver