Lost Creek Hollow forget about me and all of my dreams.

Ilya seemed eager for the trip, causing Harlyn to grin.  It was good to see her happy and excited when it seemed there was little left for her to enjoy.  Harlyn took it as a gift from the gods.  They would give her the energy she needed for this, and the spirits would lighten her heart and ease death's ever tightening grip upon her physical frame.  As they began to walk, the druid could almost see their light dancing around the girl, sparkling in every step, glinting in every smile.  There was not much more the healer could give her friend, but there would be this at least - one day of peace and joy before whatever would be finally was.

Silas. Pip. Lark.

The minutes seemed to breeze by, and Harlyn spent each of them watching her charge intently.  Every once in a while, she thought she spotted something changing in her step - a weakening, or a brief re-centering - but then she would recover and on they'd go.  Harlyn knew that there was nothing to fear in this.  Her body was simply trying to cope with what was happening to it.  It was perhaps not well-advised for Ilya to be traveling so far in her condition, but the druid had faith that she was strong enough for this.  The gods would see to it with Harlyn as their vessel.