出発
ベース
It was Sophie's idea — a fire out past the houses, turnips in the coals, no reason but the wanting. Lyra would have called it pointless, once. The old Lyra, who did nothing without a reason. She pulled her coat against the evening chill — the one thing she still wore from before — and let the girl lead her out of the village. Pointless was the point. She was learning that.