Josiah
When I was a boy, I ran every square foot of the territory beside my father. I knew every rock, every tree, every nook and cranny of Prosperity Springs. But I always circled back to the source, the spring that gave the town its name. It was located high above the town, nestled in the mountains. Although there were smaller springs that bubbled up out of the same aquifer lower down, none of them held the majestic beauty of the main fountainhead. It came from a deep crevice in the rock and tumbled down into a pool that the water had carved out over millennia before it tumbled down into a stream that fed the lake. The minerals from the stone gave the water a deep green-blue hue, and huge ferns grew around it, giving it a magical, almost fairy feel.
Now my paws ran those same well-trod
