Sunbeam Lair what would lizzie mcguire do?

In the many hours that pass, Tavi changed yet again. It isn't a visible thing to Ukko, and she isn't entirely aware of it either; but the rambling nature of her tongue gradually ceases. Her words, when she is murmuring them, either slur together or are missing pieces, until she is glum and silent as she wanders. The silence is perhaps the most unnerving thing about their journey — where before she would talk to Ukko in fits and starts about Tambourine (without naming him), or close the gaps between them with haste and love as if he were the Reek of the Maplewood she once coveted, now Tavi was more withdrawn. Perhaps this was a good thing for Ukko, because he would have less chaos to deal with. Yet her wandering was endless too. Tavi repeatedly forgot where she was, or why they were moving through this foreign place, or sometimes would believe she needed to go a different direction because home is this way, except home was nowhere, and she had forgotten so much.

And then they were there, whatever that meant. The mountain had been difficult to traverse — dangerous at the best of times, made more precarious because of her own unpredictable body — but she was here, rooted to Ukko's side, and had only a few topical injuries to show for it, all of them cosmetic. She hummed softly to herself as he howled, and moved to mimic the motion of his chin lifting, then grinned at the air and fell back against his dark fur, finding comfort in the warmth and familiarity of it, although it was impossible for her to identify which tall, dark, and handsome man this was.