Thinking more of the swift-moving woman he’d only barely seen than his task at hand, Jonathan Willoway made his way toward a small hill surrounded by trees. He had only picked up a few fallen branches when he heard the trickling of a stream, and the louder cascade of a waterfall.
He patted his hip. I still have my canteen, so I’ll be able to fetch us some water, as well as the wood.
He continued slowly toward the musical tones, listening carefully for the tell-tale sounds of moving water, yet hoping he might hear her soft footfall as well.