even the air felt dead , for no breath of wind stirred the dry leaves rotting on the ground amongst pools of black , stagnant water and mounds of an equally dark sort of mud or slush its origin explained when , looking up , wixelor ( or the dreamer ) noticed a slow yet steady snowing of some jet-black stuff he recognized to his terror as flakes of soot : as if the sky had been consumed by fire and then burnt out .