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| - Sir Julien Delval (Quoted from another thread by McMannanan) "If you seek my Queen then look in the dark places. The old places. But more, look inside yourself. Seek what she offers and she will respond. It may be that Desi is waiting for you to unlock what is within you." Strolling over, no longer watching the big Scot, he kicked at the ashes of his fire. His teeth, sharp, bit his tongue. "Each of us cares for someone, and would do anything to find them. Your journey is physical, and I fear mine is more of the soul." Looking up, his eyes piercing crystal below the ragged cut of his fringe, Grave smiled at the man. "I think yours is easier. Good luck, and may the Queen bless you." He smiled grimly back at the Wolf and nodded. He headed back to town to get his horse and prepare for the ride back to Hereford. He could tell that he would be on a long journey. He'd need to return to Hereford and settle some affairs and replenish his stocks before heading off. He thought about what he'd need to do about his cottage and field as well. He saddled Awe and headed back south. He'd stop at Caverswall to let James, the captain, know what little he'd learned and his current plan, but other than that, he wouldn't stop until he reached his town. He hoped there would still be a town and that he wouldn't be pitched and feathered for leaving as he did on such short notice. At least he knew that by the time he returned he could hand over the keys to a new mayor. He thought hard the whole trip back to Caverswall . Where would she go that only he'd think to look for her??? It was infuriating... He couldn't think of it... Desi was sitting on her usual rock, looking out to sea. The weather had been warm and sunny, and she was getting quite tanned. The sea air, and the exercise of fishing and walking up and down searching for cockles and similar under the sand with her toes, was doing her good, it seemed. She was beginning to think he wasn’t coming. Found some other girl, no doubt. A new girl, younger and less mad. It was difficult to know how long she had been here. Sometimes it seemed like forever. She was settled enough here. The Manx were welcoming, and life was easy. Perhaps a little too easy. She knew she would get bored before long. She had already been missing her knitting; she had made a little necklace by twining grasses and seashells together, and had given it to one of the crofter children who brought her eggs. The little girl’s father had found out that Desi had been weaver and carpenter in her time, and brought her some old tools of his, which she had laboriously sharpened and was now carving driftwood with. Her whittlings were inspired by the shape of the wood in her hands, polished by the sea. Two early works, somewhat naïve representations of God and Goddess, were in her pouch. She was now carving what looked like some tree roots into an abstract form, based on the sea’s foamy waves. She intended to give it to the crofter family. And as the sun set and it got too dark to see her work, she got out the two statuettes and held one in each hand. The Goddess was based on the statue of the Midnight Queen near Evesham, but the God was tall and well muscled, scratches probably intended as a beard on the face, and for some reason a kilt. She squeezed it tight, and prayed to the Gods that she was doing their will. Loneliness was shaking her faith. He watched the storm clouds rolling in. He hadn't planned on staying the night at Caverswall, but with the storm coming, he recognized that this was probably for the best. He'd gotten lost trying to find his room after dinner and had found hisself in her room by mistake. Seeing her knitting still lying about, he felt his sadness and fatigue almost overwhelm him. He picked up one of her pieces and felt the wool in his fingers. Tears were starting to fall freely from his eyes. He felt utterly lost. Still holding the knitting, he kept trying to find his room. Eventually, he found it and went to the balcony... As the rains came, all of his emotions came together, roiling and bubbling over. He felt so lost... He was so tired and alone. He kept running through her sister's words to him... "She'd gone to where only he would know to find her..." He was still confused at that... She was a Knight of the Realm, a Herald, a Councilor and former Mayor... she was known through much of England... where would she go that only he'd know? A lightning strike in the north brought him back to hisself. He'd had a couple of possible thoughts but they'd seemed too far fetched, even for him. Hearing the thunder come in, it seemed that something started to make sense... she had to be in Scotland... or could she have gone to Mann??? He shook his head at that. That seemed almost impossible. She'd need a boat to go there, where would she get one? The wind picked up and he went inside to lay down. He hoped he could sleep with his mind racing as it was... he knew his body was more than ready for sleep. Just as his head hit the pillow, he saw a piece of paper with a simple letter embossed upon it... E He closed his eyes and tried to rest... Rest was not well received. His mind refused to submit. His body cried out for sleep. In the end, he realized that without getting completely drunk, he would not rest well, he sat up in bed. He turned up the oil lamp and noticed the piece of paper he'd just noticed before lying down. He picked it up and looked at it. The only marking on it was the E... He sensed that this was being left for him for a reason. Was this another message from the gods? He couldn't be certain, but something called to him... He went to go find a map. In the library, he found what he was looking for. The map of England was vast. There was a lot of ground to cover. He worried if he could possibly cover that much land and still be able to find her before something truly terrible befell either of them. There were several towns beginning with an E... Evesham, Exeter and Egremont... He tried to narrow them down. Somehow he had no reason to think she'd go to Exeter. He would never think of going there, that was certain. Evesham... well, he did know several folk there. But then, she knew a few folk there as well. If she was to go somewhere where she wasn't known, it wouldn't be that close to her home county... That left Egremont. But why Egremont..? It's not a direct link to Scotland... He looked at the map closer... His eyes kept getting heavy as he tried to study the map... He could smell the salt. It felt like home to him. He heard the albatross and the ernes, their cries like music. The mists... He could just... make out... He woke up with a start. Ye daft lass!!! O' course!!! How could I hae miss'd it??? He ran back to his room. The storm had passed in the night. The sun was just cresting over the hillside. He grabbed what few belongings he'd put in the room. Stopping in the hall, he took a look at the door to her rooms. Smiling a wee smile, he went in and grabbed a couple pieces of her knitting and needles. He had an idea. He knew that he'd almost given up hope on finding her. He wondered what she was feeling. Tossing her things into his pack, he headed down to the kitchens to grab a piece of fruit and to go get Awe saddled and ready to run back to Hereford. Rousting the groom, he told him what was needed and then ran back in to leave a note for James. Mate, Methinks I know where she be. I weel keep ye post'd after I d'termine fer surre. If'n ye can let th' Princess an' th' Lady's cousin know tha' I hae a kennin' an' weel be in touch if'n I be needin' help, I'd mos' 'preciate it. Thank ye. Yers, McMannanan Coming out and seeing Awe ready for the trip, he thanked the groom and mounted. Tearing out the gate, he couldn't help but feel that he had solved the shade's riddle. Now, if he could just get to Hereford and turn around as quickly as he hoped... His stay in Hereford extended a wee bit longer than he'd planned. He was asked to help present the first Crown Medal for Public Service to his own nominee, Kingregis. He smiled as he recalled the ceremony briefly, but he knew he needed to get back on the road, this time to Egremont... though, that was still a long ways away. He'd ridden hard again through the night, entering Birmingham very tired. He wasn't sure if he should stop at Caverswall again or just find a place to camp out for the day. Something in his gut told him to stop by Caverswall. If nothing else, there may be some news of some kind that she'd want to know when he found her. He traveled through town and up to the castle to see James, the captain of the guard. The guards had called to the Captain as soon as they'd spotted him coming up the road. The two men met in the courtyard and shook hands. "Welcome back, friend. I take it you've settled your affairs? Have you any more word? Before you go, there is something I'd like for you to take if you can. This parcel just came in the last day. I read the note that came with it, so I know she was looking forward to this." "Aye, mate. I hae settled me 'fairs in Worcestershire. I be headin' north, t' Egremont. Me kennin' tells me tha' I weel find out morre therre. An' this thin' weighs a ton, wha's in it, tha' she'd be wantin'?" He was exhausted. His eyes were red and sunken. James took a closer look at him and a scowl crossed his brow. "Sir, you need sleep, more than anything right now. The package contains medals from the Battle of Birmingham. She'd been expecting those for some time. Strange since she's on the Royal Honours Authority, but that's the way of government bodies it seems. But no more talk. I cannot in good conscience let you leave here in the pitiful shape you're in. You'd be no good in a fight in your state. Stay here, get some rest. I'll see that your horse is tended to as well. You can leave when you like, AFTER you've had some sleep. And if you won't listen to me, I'll send for Gerda, and you can deal with her." He was ready to protest until the mention of the crazy housekeeper's name. The captain was playing seriously. With a sigh, he nodded and allowed hisself to be led to a bedroom where he collapsed onto the bed and stayed through the day and almost to midnight. This time, his mind didn't have a chance to fight back and keep him awake... Desi wakes with a start from a dream. She muses on the meaning of it. It was more a flashback than a dream; standing on the hills of Birmingham, watching the battle below. Her platoon, the Stafford Section, had watched the fighting peter out before it even got to them, such was the size of England's army. Her good friend Jersey Rocket to one side, pointing out Gregarious, wounded but fighting on. Alongside Jersey stood Fizban the Apothecary, Unitedwestand, Arial of course. That chap that wasn't from Stafford that had joined them in Evesham. She couldn't remember his name, which saddened her. Now all scattered across the land or dead. She had designed medals for them all, and all the others there, months ago. But they had been swallowed up in government processes since then. She had made a list of every name she could think of that was there, and contacted them all, and they gave her more names, until she had them all, she thought. Some had said they didn't want a medal; for secretiveness or modesty or what she didn't know, but that was their choice. Some were dead. It was a pretty medal, one of the last ones she designed, and she privately thought it was one of the best. Perhaps it was time for her to be returning to the Realm. If the RHA eventually gave those medals out, more people would be wanting honours struck. She'd be busy; no politics, hopefully. But she couldn't imagine it without love, and he had not come. Perhaps he was coming. If he didn't come for her she'd live her days out in this cave, she thought. Alone. He woke up feeling slightly more human. After dressing hisself, he splashed some water on his face and ran down to the stables. He needed to be away. As much as the sleep helped him, he couldn't stop feeling that he'd wasted valuable time. Not bothering to rouse the groom, he got Awe ready and saddled him hisself. Checking that all was right, including the new package for his love, he mounted and raced off again. As he passed through the gate, he thought that he should've left a note for James, thanking him if nothing else, but that was more time that he just didn't have. Right now, the pressing thought in his head was whether to stop in Beeston or continue through until Manchester. As much as he knew what was in Beeston as far as provisions and accomodations, he knew what else was in Beeston and he didn't know if he had it in him to deal with her right now. He decided that he'd need to continue to the north side of the town at the very least. He seemed to recall a certain "haunted" mill that he could stop in, if he needed the rest. Somehow, he didn't think that the spirit inhabiting that place would mind if he needed to rest there. And with the weight of the medals now on Awe's back, he might need to rest a bit more often than he normally would. It wouldn't do to kill his horse by overburdening him. They were just coming to understand one another, it seemed... Desideratist (This post is entitled "The Clootie Well") Meanwhile, on Mann, the priest came down to the cave, and found Desi again sat looking out to sea. “How goes it, my Sister?” “Every day is much the same as any other. My faith is tried.” ”So the Gods test us. Perhaps then I have come at a good time. We travel to make offerings at a sacred spring near here. Perhaps you should come with us. We can share news of the Mainland with you.” “It will be politics and the threat of war. It always is. Let us not speak of it. I would rather come to make offerings with a light heart.” The old priest nodded, and they made their way up to the town, where a group of priests, druids and local villagers were gathered. The pilgrimage was pleasant, the children laughing and running about, and the festival atmosphere made Desi miss having people around. Perhaps she should visit the old priest more often and study with him. She has heard from the family that visit her that he is a noted healer; she knows a little of the properties of plants, and to know more will always be useful. They reach the spring, surrounded by trees, and the people take turns to dip a small piece of cloth in the water and say a few words. Some use the water to wash, sometimes an ankle or an arm; it seems the water is believed to help with illness or disease. They then tie the cloth to the branches of the trees to flutter in the wind, blowing the illness away. Desi’s turn comes, and she is given a small scrap of cloth. She dips it in the water, thinks a moment, and wipes her forehead with it. Finding a low branch to tie it to, she murmurs: Mannanan, bring him here soon. I have rested enough. I shall study healing in the meantime. I have been entirely too self-indulgent lately. Time to give something back. She returns to the old priest, and asks him if she might learn a little of his herb lore. He smiles and nods, and replies: “You will be a Healer. I feel it. You hate to see people around you suffering. And you will go back to the Mainland soon. There has been much suffering, of late. And as you rightly guessed, imagined slights and pride, on all sides. Politics and fighting. You may need to heal more than people. We have talked, my Sister. I know you can talk in circles, and sometimes you care too much. They will need you at home, I think. Someone that can find the sickness in an argument, and heal wounded pride. He will be here soon. I have Seen it. But I fear you will not be together long. Enjoy your time together to the fullest, therefore.” “What? He will die, or I will? What do you mean?!” “I Saw you standing with armed men in green and white, watching as he left for the north. That is all I can say. The Borders are not safe, these days.” Green and white; the Knights of the Realm. There are many of those in Cumberland, which would be on their route to Scotland. Old friends, and brothers in arms. If there was trouble in the Borders, she doubted Gregarious would let his squire run off to the north without doing her duty. But then again, McMannanan was oath-sworn to the Knights too. She hoped dearly that Scots were not being deported. Shaking her head, she tries to pay attention to the old priest pointing out medicinal herbs and plants, as they walk back. After his little excitement in Beeston, he hoped that his evening's travel would be much calmer. He wanted to push all the way to Preston. Normally, this would take 2 days of travel. But then, he was known to not traveling under normal means. He much preferred to ride in the night. He also preferred to continue moving until he was nearly ready to drop. He'd gone two days without resting before. He could do it again, although he did worry about this box of medals he was carrying with him. He did not wish to push Awe much more than that. He hoped for Preston, only because the next leg would definitely have them camping in the woods. He wanted Awe to be at his best prior to having to rough it. He kept on through the night, stopping in Manchester long enough to water the horse and grab a quick meal. Then, back out they went, hard north towards Preston. The sunset caught them nearly at the Preston town gates. He'd passed through the area a while back on his way to his friend's wedding. There was a noticeable change in the air. People were a bit more energetic, it seemed. He wasn't sure what was bringing that on, but as long as it wasn't for lynchings, he could relax. He'd heard of troubles on the Northern border. That was one of his next destinations, once he'd found his love. He didn't need people thinking he was there to loot and pillage the town as well. Looking around carefully, he spied a quiet little inn where he was able to get a stall for Awe and a bed for hisself. After seeing to Awe's needs, he went in for a pint and a meal. Then up to bed, he went. After two days travel without sleep, he was more than ready to pass out. He closed his eyes and said a little prayer that was in the back of his head to his patron, to keep watch over his love, as he knew that he was near her, watching over her. Rising in the early afternoon, he dressed quickly. He needed to be away again as soon as he could. A light repast for hisself and a bag of grains for his horse and then they were off again. He decided to steer off of the main road north. He'd head toward the coast, as that would be quicker for him to get to his destination, Egremont. He could feel a drawing towards the sea. Bodes weel, she mus' truly be therre... He felt a slight rush as he could almost sense her calling to her. Whether she was actually calling to him or not, he did not know. But he could feel her in his heart and his heart was telling him where to go. They rode through the evening and into the night until the sun began to creep up over the hills to the east. He could almost smell salt air. The scent of his youth. He allowed hisself a small smile in remembrance of the happier time. The time he spent on Mann. They made a quick camp. Awe was tied to a tree in the shade. He made a quick shelter more to protect hisself from being seen than to protect him from any elements. He also set some triggers, to alert him if someone should be approaching too closely. The recent troubles by the border meant more patrols all around and he was not liking any ideas of being detained or harassed simply because he was on the wrong side of the border. And it would be very hard to convince some headstrong young militiaman or lieutenant that he belonged on the English side. Things were just too tense right now. Even with his association with the Knights of the Realm, he doubted that he'd get much help before suffering some gross indignity. The thought started to weigh on his mind a bit... He hoped that he'd be able to find out more in Egremont, that there wouldn't be too much hostility. All he wanted right now was to find his love... and then to get to the Hameland to complete his geas... He started to think about his friend, Yuki. He wondered if she was able to get any more information about the Black Strangers. He was also worried about her bairn and her husband. A cousin was trying to start a war that would inevitably draw her husband, the Earl Marshal of the RSA, into a fight. He sent a prayer to the gods that that would not come to fruition. Too much anger and bloodshed already in the world, and he would have to add to it before he was done. As he closed his eyes, he could feel the jeweled sgian dubh call to him, as if taunting him to pick it up and do the bloody deed that it seemed to enjoy... Again, he rose with the sunset. Checking on Awe, he made certain that the beast was safe and well for their travel that night. He recalled the map he'd looked at back in Caverswall. If he was correct, he could turn to the northwest now and reach Egremont by the end of tomorrow, but he'd have to make good time and not delay. He wasn't sure what exactly he would find, but his kenning was telling him that that was the way to go. As they crested a hill, he could actually see the sea to the west. His heart raced as if knowing that he could soon be reunited with the woman who held his heart. He needed to hurry though, and he knew it. He could almost smell a change coming in the weather. A change that would make it very difficult for any travelers on the roads or seas. Time to keep moving... He couldn't afford to waste any more time. The pair continued well past the morning and deep into the afternoon. They were both very tired when he finally halted the animal and alit. They were near a ford. He could smell the sea nearby and could almost taste the salt in the air. He chose a hilltop, for more quiet protection. They rested until nightfall again. He looked to the northwest and thought he could make out a city off in the distance. He couldn't be certain though. He knew the eyes played tricks over great distances... They moved through the wood, keeping close eyes and ears out for any unfriendly company. He'd been lucky thus far, but out in the middle of nowhere anything could happen. And things usually did happen to him. He was on a hilltop overlooking a town when he heard them. It was hard not to, they were crashing into the underbrush on their march into the wood. He knew where they were, but couldn't tell if they were trying to flush him or anyone else out for another group to try and take him. At that moment he decided that he needed to make a dash for it. He snapped the reins on Awe and held on for his very life. The animal really knew how to move! He felt as though he were flying. He heard a lot of loud swearing behind him, and nearly fell when he felt an arrow graze his shoulder. At that he maintained his head but alternated direction so that the pursuers would not be able to get another good shot at him, or Awe. He still wasn't sure if they were more bandits or an armed militia, but they were intent on trying to pursue him. And apparently they knew these woods, because no matter how fast Awe went, they seemed to close the gap. He could tell that by another grazing shot across his back. He could almost make out their words. He did catch wind of "Damned skirt-wearing ruffian!" That was it... patrolmen... just what he was trying to avoid, more than bandits, this close to the borders... It also made him worry that he might be heading into a trap. Suddenly the forest broke and he could see the town ahead of him... He was exhausted, his horse was exhausted, he didn't want to fight anyone, but now that he was out of the woods, any decent shot would be readily able to pick him off. He began to scream, whipping Awe's flanks, trying to coax the most speed out of the beast that he could. They had almost made it into the gates when he felt the stinging sensation in the back of his shoulder. He'd been hit! As he came through the gate, he could feel his heart racing, his sudden urge to grab his sgian dubh and go back out there. But he stayed his hand.He could still feel the arrow tip almost poking through his flesh. Someone was calling out for a healer to come quick. He waved them off soon enough, though. He simply asked for a clean cloth and a glass of the uisge. After getting both, he downed the uisge and broke off most of the arrow's flight. He then pushed the arrowhead through his shoulder and immediately pressed the cloth on top of the wound attempting to stem the bleeding. He took a moment to find out about the group that was chasing him, as none of them had bothered entering the town to come after him. He found out that the group was a bunch of vigilantes, determined to make the Scottish scum that ruined one of the towns pay for their deeds. Most of the folk seemed to agree that not all Scots were vile creatures, but there were a couple who gave him a dirty look. He shook his head. He knew he hadn't done anything wrong, but obviously that wasn't enough. Wearing his kilt made him an enemy. The townsfolk seemed nice enough. They told him that the vigilantes were not welcome, as a group, inside the town walls. That explained why they didn't follow him in. But, the way they said it, he'd be hard pressed to believe that he wouldn't see at least one of them in town soon enough. He told them where he'd come from and then asked for a bed for his horse and a stable for him. When he saw the confused look on the face of the locals, he stopped and realized what he'd said. He laughed and retried his request. This time, there was an appropriate response. Awe got taken care of, and he got hisself a decent bed with a bottle of uisge to help nurse him. His shoulder was killing him, but he refused to give in to the pain. Not until he was ready and secure in the knowledge that he'd be safe through the night. He wanted to ask about if anyone had seen her, but he was just too fatigued to do it. He drank a long pull from his uisge bottle and laid down. He immediately passed out. As he fell asleep, he thought that he could smell her near him. He smiled wearily at that thought... ARRRGHH!!! The pain in his shoulder was excruciating. It burned and throbbed. As he arose from the litter he'd slept in, he noticed that he'd bled, a lot, in the night. He was about to go down and ask for some fresh cloth for a dressing when he heard a commotion below. Loud voices shouting, demanding to know where that skirt-wearing devil was. So much for going down the normal way. He looked out the window and saw another one of the chasers. From the way he was holding his bow, he could be the one who'd shot him. There was a strange sense of calm, and a growing thirst for blood, rising within him. He reached down and took the sgian dubh out of its sheath and opened the window. He could easily jump down on top of the man and skewer while his mates were inside arguing with the barkeep. He looked around to see if he could spy any others waiting for him. Not seeing anyone suspicious, he grabbed the uisge bottle. Taking a short pull from the bottle, he removed his blood-soaked dressing and poured a good shot into the wound. The burning he'd felt before was nothing compared to that which he felt then. Tears formed in his eyes as the pain boiled over. But the pain ave way to a new emotion, rage. His temper had always been something that he'd been barely able to keep in check. Now, he could feel his rage building within him. He fingered the sgian dubh in his hand and went back to the window. Opening it silently, he creeped out onto the small ledge above his adversary. He thought about leaping down and plunging the blade deep into his foe's heart. Just before jumping on top of him though, he decided that his full weight on top of the bowman would be more than sufficient to take him out. And there would be less commotion as the man would not be able to scream out for his mates. Thinking for a second, he grabbed the heavy package. The more weight, the better, he felt. Nodding to hisself, he made his move. He quietly leaped on top of the man's shoulders. He could feel the bones breaking as the force of his weight shattered the shoulders. He barely landed on his feet, but the man who cushioned his fall was not so lucky. His head connected with the street with a dull thud. Knowing that he could have killed the man, he took off running for the waterfront. He tried to blend in with the crowd gathered by the fishmongers. He spied an old man with a curious look in his eye. The old man beckoned him over. Seeing as how this was still fairly out in the open, he took the chance, but he kept the blade close at hand. "Would ye know of a lady from the south?" the old man asked. Eyes opening wide, he nodded slowly. "Aye, sir. I be lookin' fer one such as she. Would ye be knowin' wherre I can find 'er?" The old man chuckled and pointed out beyond the horizon. "She is out there. I believe she was going to Mann. I seem to recall her asking about it." That almost brought a smile to his face. She did go Hame! The Hame of his youth... The near smile faded though as he realized that he had no way of getting out there. The old man was watching his face and seemed to understand. He pointed to a small craft, with a short mast and oars. He said, "That will take ye where ye need to go. And I'll give it to ye provided..." He watched the old man, waiting for him to continue. ... "ye must give this back to her". At that, he produced a ring with a familiar sign of arms. If his eyes weren't already large with the knowledge that the old man had known his love, they would've popped from his sockets. He nodded his head vigorously, much to the chagrin of his shoulder. The old man dropped the ring into his hand, just as a commotion was raised at the town side of the docks. His landing mat's friends were coming after him. Saying a quick word of thanks to the old man, he ran for the small craft and slipped it from its moorings. He rowed as fast as he could away from the dock. He had to duck more arrows and his shoulder was screaming in protest as he pulled for all his worth to escape a near certain lynching. Finally, he could barely make out the faces of his hunters. He took the opportunity to rig a small sail to the mast and, using the sail, began to glide along the sea towards the isle of his youth... and the location of his heart. He felt a twinge of regret as he realized that he was leaving behind his horse. Hopefully, he'd be able to make amends for that soon. But he knew that he wouldn't have done either of them any good by getting hisself killed... It seemed as if he would never get there, but in the span of several hours, he could begin to make out the shape of the island on the horizon. The sight gave him a renewed sense of hope and a certain lightness in his mind. He guided the craft toward the island, using his prior teaching to read the waves and find the currents that would help him get there sooner. After another couple of hours, with the sun approaching the western horizon, he finally made landfall. The feeling of the place under his feet made him feel half his age again. He tied the boat to some rocks and made his way to the temple of his patron. He hoped that his love would be there, waiting for him. But, even if she wasn't, he needed to pay tribute to him for the safe journey across the sea. As he finished his prayers, he found an old priest. The priest, upon seeing the kilt and hearing his brogue, became quite excited. Worrying that his childhood hame was no longer safe for him, he realizes that the priest is trying explain something to him. "The one you seek is in the Ghaw Kione Doo. She has been waiting for you for some time now." For some time now??? He was a little irked by that. How could he have known that she'd be here of all places? He knew the cave though, and immediately set off for it... Coming upon it, he spied her from the hillside. Smiling, he slid down the hill silently. He snook past where she was watching the waves and placed his parcel for her nearby where she'd easily see it. Then, he snook back up the hill partway and hid. From his vantage point, he could take a small rock and lob it near the package to draw her attention...
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