Flycatcher Downs you might listen to too much jimmy buffett

the pair moved along the tall grass in graceful steps, the silence between them interrupted only by the occasional thud of a foot on firm ground. indra had not visited the glade recently, and moved slowly through the valley's timothy grass. her concentration was on finding some sort of scent; anything that might show her where laurel's son had gone.

she might as well have said it was all in vain; it had been weeks now and the scent was long cold, but she was grateful for the company and believed two minds were better than one. already nebula had offered insight she and laurel and xan and tadec had overlooked; perhaps there would be other gems at the glade only nebula could conjure thought of.

at length they came to a dip in the vale, and the glade sat before them flanked by the sullen presence of drooping yew and red pine. indra set to work scouring the pine straw, but as expected found nothing. eventually indra ventured a quiet question against hope as nebula rifled through scores of leaves and grass not too far from her: "find anything?"