Duck Lake spare me from this limbo

There was a very fine line between what the druid believed to be the whispers of the gods and simple science.  In fact, there was really no line at all - just the casual argument of the heart versus the mind.  Harlyn's heart told her that the spirits guided her and her brain was such a one that had been shaped since her birth to trust fully in what her heart had to say.  It was all it took to make her gods real, and also all it took to make her look on wolves such as Luke who believed more in science with understanding, and a secret knowing that what they saw was not actually all it seemed.

"I just have this feeling..." Harlyn responded, excitement apparent upon her tone, "We're close."  Close to what, she didn't feel the need to specify.  Without a word, she picked up her pace into a swift canter that took them both across the final few miles of the field until they were standing at the door to the hollow.  The trees shot up quite suddenly in a line around them as the field narrowed like a sloping set of stairs down towards the wood.  Harlyn slowed to a near stop and paced slowly forward, gazing reverently up at the stalks that stood like sentinels at the gate.  Her ears twisted forward to harken the sound of trickling waters, the gentle slip of the wind between tree trunks, and the sweet sound of the woods - all gently chirps and cracks and rushes and quiet, singing a quiet minuet that drew her forward into the alluring shade.