Cien watched from the stables as Regan walked out of the house and checked her flash light. With a deep breath, she walked forward into the woods. Cien looked himself over, suddenly unsure of himself.
His new jeans were in a good clean condition, and the same could be said of his black sweater. He'd allowed Iris to pick out his clothes for this special occasion, and now he wasn't sure if he should have just worn his torn and burned kilt instead.
Taking a breath, he followed after her. She was only twenty yards ahead of him, and seemed to be taking in the sights around her. She was smiling, and humming to herself, he could hear.
After a few minutes, she stopped suddenly, looking to her right and her left. She seemed to debate which way she should go, and finally decided on the right, and took a step in that direction.
"Don't go that way, lass."
Spinning around, Regan gasped.
Cien walked until he was only five feet from her.
"Am I dreaming?"
Cien smiled. "Nay. I'm as real as you are."
Regan shook her head, and stared at him. "You were my dream..." She shook her head again. "I probably sound crazy." Cien took a short step forward.
"I don't think so. I know about your dream."
Regan groaned. "Iris tell you?"