Lake Rodney and not a drop to drink

stormrift really rang a bell, and he rummaged through all the useless junk in his brain, until. . . ford, he said, name suddenly on his tongue like some kind of an ephiphany. i believe a man named ford ran that pack, when i was there last. give him my regards—tell him govinda says 'hello.' looking sheepish, he added, a nickname of mine.

still, he smiled. best of luck, heloise, aditya said sincerely. perhaps our paths will cross again some day. it was time for him to leave this place of shadow and memory, of times that were and never would be again. with a murmured farewell to the woman, he slipped away, straddling the shore before peeling off and heading further up the mountains.