Porcupine Ridge but they're weird and they're wonderful

He found himself overwhelmed.

Perhaps it was the exhaustion mingled with her bustling greeting. She seemed to nearly dance upon his arrival and it wiggled something in his brain. Sharp and jagged.

Golden and radiant.

He did not mean to come across so distant when he spoke —

There's a vale down below the ridge. Sleep and we can make it in the morning. It should be easier there, for your hip, I think.