Redsand Canyon Blessed be the pillow, muffling sound

she helped him, supported him. silvertongue was sure that they were watched but the pair of them were not stopped. when he slowed so would she, her glassblue eyes darting over his shoulder and around. she half-feared they might be dragged back to mereo, though the sentiment died down the further they got from the packland. at last there was a bend in the path and she urged him to a stop. "rest. rest, breathe. look. we are away. look at the stars, crowfeather."