Flycatcher Downs you might listen to too much jimmy buffett

indra followed nebula's soft yellow gaze to the realm beyond; bearclaw's jaws of stone sat smoking in smoldering mist, and the arms of the cliff that flanked the valley's girth rose in pallisades beyond them. it was a fortress surrounding a green oasis - carved perhaps by massive glaciers in the immeasurable distance past, but to indra, it was home.

nebula, at the very least, seemed obliging to answer indra's questions - at the mention of home again she turned and glanced the female up and down in a careful manner. she had once been like that too; but now, her family was her anchor -- the tether that commanded she shall not stray.

"where was home?" she asked, more-so for her own information than keeping conversation.