Plodding interminably onward, the group reached Sylph Valley after dark, while the moon was still climbing in the sky. The town itself was at the other end, near the small lake the basin boasted. Other than that, there were only a few crofters dotted through the rest of the landscape, set close to the herds or the fields their owners tended. Gabralina had wanted to stop at dusk, but with them so close to home Ril had refused and just kept trudging, though his head hung low with fatigue. The blonde girl—now mounted on a Wat who at least looked like a normal horse—had been given no choice but to follow, jabbering nervously all the way about what she was going to do if no one there liked her. “Quiet up and you’ll be sleeping in a real bed tonight,” Leon told her sharply. His butt was just as sore as he’d predicted, but he kept that to himself. He could almost smell home and his family. His need to see them was overwhelming. He’d be home. It had been months. “Really?” Gabralina asked, perking up.
