"Shanni! Shannon!"
Someone's calling my name...
Again, her name echoed through the woods, then closer, accompanied by the sound of shoes hitting the ground, hard; boots.
Boots.
Snow crunched, brittle pine needles and dry leaves snapped, yielding to a force of weight.
Someone dropped to their knees beside her.
A smell of fresh air and mountain and man.
"Hey, Irish," she heard him say as she forced her eyelids into a slit.
Raising her hand toward him, Shannon drew her fingertips down Joah's face, traced the strong features, the brilliant white smile. "I knew you once."
Her hand slid away, her eyes closed as blackness plunged...
A rumbling through the silence of the forest.
She felt him pick her up, run with her.

--The Valley Of Moonfire--
A mystery, a romance. A remembrance.