She had asked her usual companion to follow her that evening. It had been too long since the duo had enjoyed an adventure in the dark. Hawthorne felt that perhaps - in some silly way - the night was symbolic to them. It was how they had first met. Granted their first meeting had not been the best but it was smoother than other first introductions she had had.
This way. She whispered softly, motioning with her head for him to follow her on a worn down path. The usual ferns were burried beneath the snow but she knew the beauty was still there. The trees loomed all around them but they seemed rather barren. A shame really. I hope you don't mind us headin' this way. We haven't been to the south in a bit. Not that she minded really. The falls was where the girl was truly rooted to at the end of the day.
Her head turned to look behind her, making sure that her tawny friend was still nearby.