Lost Creek Hollow the carriage ride

it had been a long day, and ashlar was uncommonly ready to sleep around dusk. mona had lulled him with made-up tales of his grandfather and namesake, lasher, and watched fondly as her boy settled into slumber. a wide yawn spread her jaws; mona slipped from where she had made them both a little pallet beneath the stars, just for tonight.
unbeknownst to the stalwart, this had been one of merrick's favorite places. now she climbed the tall flat stone where her friend's son had laid on more than on occasion, lifting her murkwater eyes to the clear night.
it was not the constellations that came to mind, however; it was @Gannet.