Lost Creek Hollow don't you weep and don't you worry

Her acquiescence to their situation pained him though it did not show outwardly. It came long before her voice did and only served to strength what comfort a mortal body could provide. If he needed to be her shelter from whatever storm raged, then that was what he would strive to be; as it were, Mordecai had long been better at a supporting role than a lead. And as silence delved between them, he did his best to void his mind of whatever intrusive thoughts forced their way in. Distraction would do him no good here, nor would it serve either of them any purpose in figuring out what steps there were to take next, if any at all were to come.

When she at last pulled away from their embrace to meet his solitary gaze, it seemed she had found her voice once again. Whatever lapse of her armor was coming back, that he could sense, and it bolstered his own resolve to find quick answers to her question. "We could go to find Charon," he suggested, thinking of his speckled nephew. There was only a catch to that — Mordecai had no idea where the yearling had ended up, if he had even stayed within the confines of the wilderness as they knew it. But she would know that as well as he did, and so it went without saying. "We can't do much until Shikoba's well enough for travel, though." And perhaps that too, went without saying, but by then he was thinking aloud. He had no real answer as to where they could go. Simply saying that the world was their oyster wasn't going to work here, no matter how charming he would have tried to be.