He saw the torchlight flickering in the distance as he closed in on the standing stone, then his keen eyes made out the shape of Georgie as well. She stood bravely before the monolith, clutching something in her hand - a spent torch or stout stick, perhaps. The trick would be taking her without causing pain. He hated to think of marring that tender skin. Perhaps he should perch on the craggy hilltop above her and wait for her to fall asleep.

No. Now that she'd seen him, she ...