Cedar Sweep oh the sweet tune I miss

Little time (despite feeling like it could have been hours) passed before the sought woman came to view. 

She had traveled afar, so could be told by the exhibit before her. They both had done much walking, but now, for Ouraniós, she would no longer be alone.

Nephele! Or so she had last known her as.

A small trot had grown into a canter; fur swayed through the breeze, glistening beneath the sun's light.

Her friend would be spared the distance. Ouraniós would close the gap on her own.