The Western Platform has a lone occupant--not counting yourself--and you go to her. It is old Yolanda. Tiredly she looks up at you, her still-intact beauty showing signs of her advanced age. "Surely the King is not calling me?"  You tell her no, and she sighs with relief. "Honey Tree, please be quiet and let an old girl have her rest, OK?"  You nod and bend down, rubbing her aching shoulder joints. "You just rest, dear." You work down her spine and in the curve of her thigh, then her hip joint. The unpleasant thought crosses your mind that your next visit with her may be in the starry sky. She reaches up with a paw and strokes your face. "That feels better, hon. Much better. Would you mind sneaking off while I can fall asleep?" You oblige her. To the north is a stream. To the west is a trail back to the Honey Tree Spot.