Swiftcurrent Creek but the days are cruel and mean

It was a quiet camaraderie—something far more enjoyable to the shadow runner. His thoughts were always assessing, but the routine and consistent border patrol helped, and so as each day passed it seemed the creek might just thrive.

Might, if they could keep away another attack.

Eyes roved the other as she responded—a curt nod given. “Just stay safe,” he offered—feeling as if briefing her on the matter was his due diligence in  giving her plenty of information should she choose to continue on her way. After all, thus far, she simply seemed to remain to rest, and just happened upon them thus far.

With that, he loped forward, continuing the mundane routine that grounded him.