Lost Creek Hollow cause the best part is falling.

Harlyn's gaze moved slowly from star to star as the pair sat together, both of their muzzles pointed skyward. Mordecai spoke of bears then, and the Druid eagerly searched for them. It took her a moment to find the constellation to which the Ostrega referred, but she smiled when she did.

"The Little Bear sounds like a good enough name to me," she replied when her companion admitted to not being able to remember it's name. She could probably have drudged up the name from her own memories, but she preferred his version of the stories, gaping holes and all.

The breeze coming up from the falls was cool, and Harlyn felt a shiver run down her spine. Almost instinctively, she scooted a bit closer to Mordecai until their shoulders touched comfortably. His warmth was comforting to her. 

Quite suddenly, the memory of the night she'd told him she was leaving the Plateau came to her mind. She'd said two things to him that night. One topic they'd discussed in detail. The other, Harlyn had not attempted to broach again. It occurred to her then to say it again for her heart certainly longed for her to. But, the hour was late, and they had more important things to devote their energy to.

"So what do you think," Harlyn asked, turning to him. "You want to sleep here tonight or head back into the woods?"