The sun goes down The stars come out/ And all that counts Is here and now (For Jenna)
Arranging things for the trek had been easy for Elijah. He spoke the language fluently, knew all the right people to set things up. When he picked Jenna up in the morning, he had two mules, both lightly loaded with supplies. He'd done some asking around to figure out what a human might need, ensured he had sufficient food for her, sufficient warm supplies for the cooler evenings.
The day had gone well, and they'd made good time, even with stopping to show her different things to take photos of and enjoy. They hadn't made it all the way to the monastery, though, as he'd suspected.
The valley where they had pitched the tent was shielded from the wind, and the night was clear, stars stretching out toward infinity with no clouds or lights to mar them. He'd built them a fire and eaten a little of what he'd cooked for her. Now he'd banked the fire, just a touch, and was stretching out next to it, staring at the sky ahead, listening to her heartbeat over the pop of the woods and debating going hunting or focusing on the far more lovely temptation right next to him.
The day had gone well, and they'd made good time, even with stopping to show her different things to take photos of and enjoy. They hadn't made it all the way to the monastery, though, as he'd suspected.
The valley where they had pitched the tent was shielded from the wind, and the night was clear, stars stretching out toward infinity with no clouds or lights to mar them. He'd built them a fire and eaten a little of what he'd cooked for her. Now he'd banked the fire, just a touch, and was stretching out next to it, staring at the sky ahead, listening to her heartbeat over the pop of the woods and debating going hunting or focusing on the far more lovely temptation right next to him.