Sleepy Fox Hollow the wonder that keeps the stars apart

Sif gave a shiver of delight, sensing that Wardruna was pleased with her even if he didn't say anything just yet about the place she'd found. They had a good view from the top - it was a small but sweeping valley, covered in deciduous forest and spattered sparcely with whitebark pines. There was a golden ribbon cutting through one corner, visible only intermittently through the trees - Sif was pretty sure that was the creek she'd seen on her last visit.

With a cheerful bob of her head, the dark girl led the way down the valley, making sure she was in Wardruna's line of sight on the way down. It was a narrow pass that led to the valley, and the path was mostly sand and loose rock. If they were going to be coming and going a lot, Sif might start to think about finding a better way to the bottom. But her plans, thus far, involved getting everyone to the hollow before winter and keeping them there.

"What first?" she chirped as they reached the valley floor. The walls of the hollow arched up behind them, like the loving arms of a father-figure, or the broad chest of a sentinel. Sif tore her eyes away from it to gaze bashfully at Wardruna, who - like the walls - gave Sif a sense of comfort and safety. (It was natural for her to venerate Wardruna, as it is natural for all women to venerate great men; the uterus makes a natural storage space for admiration.) "Grátandi Rokk, Sjenert Hund Creek, or Refurhol?"