here's an odd looking couple, sitting on the cliff of a mountain, overlooking the valley that's spread out before them.

He is lanky and lean, with brown and grey hair. Several years past fifty in the life that he's lived. A little rough, a little tawdry. And a little scruffy of face. His attitudes a bit scruffy too. But it's one born more of survived it, than planned to.

She's thin and wiry, just like her companion. Five years younger than half his age. With a skip in her step, that makes her look innocent and unencumbered by the world that she's seen. Her social graces are anything but practiced. Yet there's a ballerina's elegance to her awkwardness. She dances through life like a bull in a tutu, or a whisper through a blade of grass.

The hollow, they survey, is lush and vibrant, teeming with life and energy.

It's encircled, to the west, north and east, by hundred foot cliffs. On the southern edge, of the mountain itself, it’s jagged and open, like the lower jaw of an ancient beast. If you were to puzzle the creation of this isolated world, you'd say it appeared to have been ripped off by giant claws, or hollowed out by some catastrophic event, of earthly, celestial, or even heavenly origin.

Or maybe all three. Over time.

A waterfall flows, from the southern most tip of the western ridge, collecting in a pooling pond that feeds a stream, which, in turn, feeds a small lake. On the east side of the lake, the water meanders it's way into the rock strewn base, at the foot of the cliffs, and disappears into the mountain itself.

The valley is flat, for the most part. Except on its fringes, which roll and smooth into the walls, before jutting straight up to the mountain's top. Grass sprawls from the northern ridge, to the northern edge of the stream and lake, with a cozy but worn cabin placed slightly off center of it's middle. Trees dot this side of the lake shore, and grow thick from it's south side, to almost the end of the vale.

There are circles and clearings where all manner of fauna roam, most of them a bit more than interesting and rare. Like the miniature horses, colored a metallic bronze with manes of carbon black or the peacocks with the fiery red, orange and yellow tail feathers. Long waving displays that leave fading traces of a glow behind, as they parade and dance in the dark of the night. Even the trees here have unique qualities to them, that make them slightly different from their cousins on the rest of the globe. Especially, before the Breaking.

It is here, that Solata Lunata, Luna or Little Moon as he's taken to call her, Lu in more intimate moments, and Joe, or Grey One, or Many Moon she'll jibe if she's in a bit of a tease, have, by some seemingly conscious twist of time, become the first visitors, to this hidden place, in… well, even the valley itself has forgotten the years.

Their bodies are ablaze in the light of the day, contrasting vibrantly against the blue back stone and dark green flora that grow on the peak.

They sit cross legged, hands on knees, so close you can feel the heat between them.

"Ready?" she asks.

'As I'll ever be.' he replies. His anxious eyes betray an apathetic tone.

"This time, try feel the place the visions start. Not sight, feel."

She takes his hands in hers and watches him intently, studying the movement of his eyes, feeling out the path of his thoughts.

"There, that's it, right there. Picture a gate that closes from above... good, now feel it lower."

His eyes start to wander under closed lids, much like they do when following a dream. Up, they pause, then steadily down. His eyes open and he smiles.

"There you go. Not bad Old Man, only took a few. Now all you need is open the door, when you want to use it."

'It can't be that easy.'

"That's just it, it is. Not every bility is easy as this, but most not as hard, as some make them to be."

'How hard is your ability?'

"Which one?"

'The one I saw in, whatever that hallucination thing was.'

"Hallucination? I don't know this. Old word?"

'Yeah, I guess it is an old word, it means pictures in your head that aren't… real physically, but they feel real at the moment."

"Ahh, Visioning. That, is real, not in the time you see it, but it was when it did. You ask of Scry then? When I touch vine?"

'Yes, that one.'

"That a-bility is not hard, for me. Maybe a little for others who school it." She shifts her body slightly and leans against him.

'Could you teach me?'

"Now that, could be tough for me."

'Very funny Little Moon.'

She smiles and kisses his cheek. "I was born with, will have to picture how I do it, that the hard, but I will and I will school it to you, If you can Vision, mayhaps you can do."

'Who knows what changed in that vortex... Explain something to me.'

"If I can."

'Why didn't you use it earlier and get out of that, place?'

"I not touch anything that had essence."

'The metal table had no essence?'

"No. Only things that alive, or once alive but now dead, for not long, have essence. 'les they are essence. I... could, not do, because not touch vine tween fingers and flat."

'Flat?' He asks. She holds up her hand and points to the indent. "Flat."

'Ah, palm. So you can control living things?' He takes her hand and kisses her palm. She runs it across his cheek through his scruff.

"Palm. like the sound... palm... palmmmm." She settles back down against him. "Still things, yes. Not control, ask. And not things that move, unless they're dead for not long."

His arms wrap around her she takes his hands in hers, 'Trees and plants and rocks?'

"And grass or sticks or build boards, if they still have essence. Only some rock, clear rock. No metal, cept one, I forget name. Once a dead bear."

'A dead bear?'

"MMMhmm. The river much fast. Me too little. I rode the bear to the other side."

'You rode a dead bear to the other side of a raging river?'

"mmmhmm."

'Seems this world has changed a lot since my day. But back to this scrying... So. You control the essence?'

"No. I give the thing that is... the essence inside, the bility, hrmmph, the a-bilty, to move and shape. I tell what I need and they do. Or do not if they not liking it."

'Okay let's see if I get this straight then. You touched the rope and gave its essence the ability to form and move like a snake."

"I gave it ability, it formed itself. It was in it's nature to snake."

"Got it. And then, you asked it to do what it did and it...'

"NO! I speak with mind to leather and vine, yes. Gave essence the ability, yes. It feel sorry for the hurt. Not you, I say, not you, you not hurt. He use you to hurt! He hurt. You no hurt. Ask it to help me. That is all. I ask it please, free me, get me keys. It touched the blood on me... I felt it, sad. I felt it anger... yes. But I not ask it. It kill Mekel... I not ask. But I knew it, was... umm, shit... poss-a-bility?" She looked to see if she made sense.

'Chance?'

"Yes! Chance."

'Yes, Possibility.'

"I knew it was possibility. Nature knows. Nature does. I not force nature. I only ask for key."

'Well it's not like that piece of shit didn't have it coming. I could have killed him myself, if I had been there, and not blinked about it or shed one tear. I know that sounds cruel, maybe even bad, but what I saw in him.' His neck stretches and his spine steels.

"I could ask vines not to, but nature knows will, better. More true. The vines knew Mekel was, piece of shit. No kill for that. The vines and leather and hemp. Hmmm..."

'What?'

"I think... that only time, two became one."

'You mean the bramble, hemp and the hide? Animal and plant.'

"Yes. Anything. Hmmm. Three. Even Climbing Creeper and Bramble... not join. Both plant. Different essence."

'Maybe it was your blood. It was soaked into both of them.'

"Hmmm. Mayhaps... Mayhaps all before me too. We puzzle later... I finish. The essence knew pain, his cause. Feel it from me, maybe. They feel the fear, from the other three... maybe knew from essence of others... They knew he monster. Against it's nature, life. Snake kill him for that. I think."

'What happened to the girls after?'

"Millik, Shara and Tess? I know not. They coward in corner. I go. Snake show me outside, when it knew me safe, lie in grass, go back to earth."

'Why didn't they go with you?'

"They scared and hated of me... They not see help, they see what they told, they see vines turn to snake and kill, they think me hurt them, it is what they believe to be."

'Seems, I don't have much to learn about your time, it hasn't changed much from mine.'

"Haps not... We go hunt now?"

'Wanna get dressed first? There's lots of thorny things out here.'

"We not bring clothes."

'We can go back down and get em. Speaking of which. Do you think those steps were always there?'

"I not see them, til we want come here. I think this place smart with way. Or mayhap something older. Feel it knows what we do and it helps us. Let's hunt like nature. Feel the sun."

'I was hoping you'd say that. I really didn't wanna walk all the way down and all the way back up again.'

She stands and turns and steps over him and settles down on his lap. "You just like see my bottom." Her forehead touches his.

'Little Moon, I like to see your everything.' His hand brushes the hair from her face.

"Even my hurt?"

'If you mean your scars, yes, especially your scars.'

She looks hard in his eyes, testing his words. "You speak true, not sweet speak. Hmmm, Why?"

'Why do I like your scars?'

"Yes."

"Because you survived what gave them to you. Why do I think they're sexy? Because you are still kind and you're stronger for the pain you lived through. And the scars, to me, reflect that. They're quite sexy.'

For the first time, in the months they've been here, he sees her blush. "You know you are first man inside me I want."

'I wish I could have been the first man inside you period.'

She smiles and grinds herself up against him. "You were first person here," she smiles, patting herself below her navel, "Mekel only hurt... seat. It give more pain. It hurt long he say. He need scream and terror. He love the power of his pain and death."

'Well then, he should be very happy with the outcome. He got exactly what he sowed and desired the most. Pain, then death.'

She kisses him quick, grabs his hand and stands, pulling him up with her. "Let's hunt, need meat for leave time, need leather and sinew too. Time comes near, I think."

They gather their quivers and bows and walk down the slope and into the wood.

'Let's hope the practice holds true,' he chimes, running his had along the curved edge, testing the string's notch.

She picks up her gear and lets her essence flow. Inspecting the threads of life within.

Both bows were fine looking tools. They shot true and clean, with a smooth easy pull, and they felt oddly more comfortable in their grips than they should. Or atleast more comfortable than joe thought they should. He'd had some tools that felt like extensions of himself. But these were far beyond that.

They were crafted from the branches of a Lemonwood tree. One that grows on the edge of the lake, farthest from their cabin. Like many of the things, in their odd little enclave, it too had some distinct differences from it's mundane cousins. The layers of wood, just under the bark, was not a distinct apple green and yellow, but a deep dark reddish brown and ebony, with fine curling threads of a silvery hue. The limbs themselves seemed suspiciously offered to them by the tree itself. Joe noting, that they weren't there before they went looking, Luna arguing, that maybe they never looked before they were there or they were there just not looked at.

They both agreed they could both be right. And, in all of Schrödinger's realities, they both could be.

The arrows were cut from stems of a Norway Pine, shaped by their hands patiently. Each piece seeming to guide their knives along just the right grain to find it's own true shape. That material too, had a slight distinction from the trees of it's relatives. The wood was a dusky rich chestnut with zebra like markings in a golden, honey-brown hue.

Silently they stalk, through the brush and wood, hoping to put those tools to the test.

It's past midday, the shadows are short. There's a breeze on the air that smells crisp and leafy. They stop outside a clearing and close their eyes to listen. Sniffing. Feeling the air all around them, face into the wind.

There's a crackle of branches a short distance away, then a step. And a bleat. They open their eyes and slowly follow the sounds to their mark, keeping their bodies downwind of their quarry.

Deft of foot, they pursue their prey.

Hoof prints, in the soft dirt, reveal a deer, heavy on heel. There's a flash of rack and a scraping of bark. Swiftly they adjust their course. There's another call and a thumping, just past a hedgerow. They skirt it and place an arrow to the knock. Right passed the hedge's end they see an opening in the green.

The buck moves on.

But they're too distracted to follow.

With curious eyes they stare at the sight before them. Stepping over a threshold of cobble they enter a circle of hard clay and stone. He looks at her with a wrinkled brow.

She just shrugs and smiles, "Nother mystery to unpuzzle, unravel, undo. Busy are the Musements."