Bearclaw Valley my isle of golden dreams

Her form fell behind, and Tadec wanted to slow his pace so that she might catch up once more, but he refrained and continued at his quick canter. If he were to falter, to slacken his quick steps, they would surely never make it past the valley’s entrance. His heart thrummed softly as he pressed forward, and only when he heard her voice call from behind him did he breathe again. It was relief that passed through him, touching the very tips of his nimble toes. The question that she posed was the kind of adventure he sought to take her on. The smoky thief tossed his head so that it pointed straight above him and called back, “Tadec cannot know the answer to that question.”
 
Slowing some so that she could return to a place nearer to him, the spindly halfling turned his head back over his shoulder and panted softly. “We find out together,” he then told her once she had gained on him. The crow knew that the journey would be well worth the end, but he only hoped that the Redleaf would find it just as magnificent.