Charon

Gray water ice with ammonia in it, cratered and old; the bright crater in the north is fresh ammonia frost. The red cap at the pole is Mordor: gas that escaped from Pluto, froze here and was cooked by sunlight into tar. Pluto fills a third of the sky and never moves — the two have faced each other for four billion years. At noon the Sun passes behind it, and Pluto stands as a dark disc in a ring of blue haze. Herds of Pluto gazers — three-legged walkers with a lens for a head — stand and look at it; leave them be and they will not touch you. To the north climbs the Ferryman's Pier: stand between the pillars at its end. When dark red flakes fall, tholin crust settles on the ice.