some like my one in particular who , though only older than me by a matter of moons and likewise never having seen the land , would gently show to me that i should let go any hope of rescue , of any life other than one we might carve out ourselves among the voices of the clearing , telling me this on the nights i was afraid , telling me that our day would come , it would , but that it would be our day and not the day of a land that had clearly forgotten us .