Whitewater Gorge we have no evidence it wasn't

He took a step back, prepared to pull away from an oncoming attack. The snarl was all the warning he had needed. Then as quickly as it had happen it melted and fizzled out to nothing. Sourness was present but not outright anger. He hesitated to reply to her sharply returned words but eventually his brain worked to move his mouth.

NOTHING... He admitted with a subtle shrug of his shoulders. Why did he feel almost like a youth caught misbehaving? To be scorned by the scarred ivory dove like a mother reprimanding a child, it didn't settle well with him. Such things could not be dwelt on for too long unless he was to become bitter himself.

WHAT COULD GROW HERE? Another question rolled off his tongue, genuine curiosity lacing it as he tried to peer over her form. As if it might reveal what wonders could grow in the gorge.