Recuperation continued

For the second day, the GHE shopfront stood still and empty. It was the longest period of closure since the Scourge invasion two years prior, and Shyla was beginning to feel uneasy. Although the majority of GHE sales were conducted through the medium of mail order; there was something inherently comforting about the bell jangling over the door, the bustle of bodies and the rustle of exposed coinpurses. If it had been up to her, the GHE would not have shut its doors in the first place. But Leafsong had insisted, and she was still -on paper, anyway- the manager of GHE:SW; hence, her word was final. Shyla sighed to herself as she scrubbed the already gleaming counter for the fourth time that morning.

“Onty” said Analith suddenly from behind her, unusually stealthy for such a rotund infant. “Onty, luk.”

Shyla smiled and crouched down to eye level with her young nephew, skirts trailing over the polished floorboards

“Morning Analith,” she chirped, patting the little boy’s inky-blue waves. “What have you got to show Aunt Shyla?”

He beamed gummily at her, opening a chubby fist to reveal a semi-squashed green beetle.

“Bug.” He let out a slightly maniacal cackle.

Shyla grimaced, then injected sugar into her tone.

“That’s lovely, baby. Why don’t you go show min’da and an’da?”

Analith thought for a moment, then wheeled about and toddled off towards the hollow shelter beneath the stairs.

“MIN’DA!! An’da, luk-”

Mirae, playing with a stuffed saber at the foot of the bed, shot him a look of disapproval. Leafsong’s tousled head appeared from the lumpen mass of blankets, yawning.

“Ah, what time is it- oh, hullo Annie. What’ve you got there?”

Analith held out his smeared palm, and Leafsong let out a squawk of horror.

“EUGH, oh, Annie, that’s so nasty!”

She swung bare legs out from beneath the blanket, as Ashamal sat up beside her. His injuries were beginning to mend, but his ordeal had exhausted both mind and body and he still spent the majority of the day resting.

“What has the boy done now?”

Leafsong picked her way delicately over the detritus scattered on the floor; more cautious since her impromptu plunge into the twins’ cot.

“He’s got some sort of- creature, insect, fing -I dunno- on his hand.”

Ashamal snorted, gingerly testing the mobility of his bandaged arm.

“He’s a little boy. That’s what they do.”

“Is it?” asked Leafsong, nonplussed, knowing as much about children as she did about the inner politics of the Burning Legion. “Well, it’s ‘orrible.”

Tickling Mirae as she passed, Leafsong peered into the twins’ crib. Flora was still asleep, Loredar was occupied with a woollen glove. As he looked up at his mother, he hurled the glove onto his sister and flailed his arms, cooing. Leafsong plucked the squirming baby up and, turning, deposited him on his father’s chest. Ashamal grunted slightly as the weight of the fat little infant pressed against his wound.


1 Response so far »

  1. 1

    I can’t believe we’ll have five little babies to take care of soon. Cute ❤

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