Relief washed over Lyra at Finrod's playful tone, breaking through the somber face he'd been wearing in all the hours she'd known him. [i]So there's a spark of life in him after all,[/i] she mused, a small grin tugging at her lips.

The climb proved to be more exhilarating than Lyra had anticipated. She felt a surge of pride as she navigated the rugged terrain, her agile movements betraying the grace and strength honed through months of survival in the wild. When a slippery patch threatened to send her tumbling, she gritted her teeth and dug her fingers into the rock, determination fueling her ascent.

Her laughter bubbled up at the sight of Finrod's own clumsy slip, but it was quickly tempered by concern when she saw him wince in pain. Without a second thought, when they reached the top of their climb, Lyra knelt beside him, ready to inspect his injured arm. Her hands hovered for a moment, uncertain -- would touching him send us into another vision? -- before she finally, decisively, took hold of it, her touch gentle.

As she attempted to channel the healing magic she had learned years ago, her brow furrowed in concentration, her lips moving silently as she focused her energy on easing his discomfort. [i]Come on Lyra, you can do this,[/i] she urged herself, her cheeks flushing with embarrassment at her clumsy attempt.

When Finrod mentioned the clearing, Lyra followed his gaze, her eyes widening in awe at the serene landscape spread out before them. The moonlight, just making its way above the horizon, danced on the water, casting shimmering reflections that seemed to beckon them onward. [i]So this is his sanctuary,[/i] she thought, a flicker of curiosity mingling with gratitude as she pondered the significance of this place to him. 

With a nod of determination, Lyra rose to her feet, offering Finrod a reassuring smile. "Lead the way," she said, her voice resolute. [i]A secret place that he's kept all to himself, for gods know how long. What else will he reveal?[/i]