( She gives a soft nod of thought as she walks alongside him, listening intently. Rose remembers the.... compulsion to follow the fox. The way it felt right, all the way down to her bones, maybe deeper than that.

But it can't truly be right. Not if her daughter isn't here with her. And it's that thought that persists, so much that she can't stop herself from turning her head to look at him again, searching. )

When you were out there — flying — did you happen to see a young woman with short blonde hair, or a little girl with long black hair?

( Sharon could be in either... form, either version. )