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Much like his sister, Séamus did not understand why they had left their home upon the mountaintop.  He did know that since they had left his belly had been a little more full, and naps were a little less frequent.  They walked more or less all the time, something that was a delight to the young man except for when his legs turned to jelly and his mamas decided to carry him.  He did not like that as much, no no, he wanted to explore!

But he hadn't really been allowed to do that, either, because they were apparently going somewhere (whatever that meant) and when you're going somewhere you're supposed to walk with one of your mamas.

So as fun as the whole trip could have been, it was kind of boring instead.  Ibis was loud and Okeanos was boring and Eleuthera was Eleuthera.  When they'd arrived, he figured they wouldn't be staying long.  They'd move on just like they always had.  Except for it had been explained to him that this was home even though the Sunspire with Ranny and the other kids was home, too.

So he'd set to exploring because if this was home now then he might as well.... he guessed...  There were a lot of rocks (just like there had been on the mountain), and his forever chubby body was having a, uhh, hard time getting over them.

In time, Olive had gotten used to thinking of the sanctuary as their home. Whether for the time being or not, the fae did not know — she wasn’t entirely sure what her future held, but as long as it had her family in it, she was fine with whatever came her way. The stars would guide her, and her loves would bolster her. There was no way that she could lose.

The pale woman was charting the innards of her new home when she came across her little son, doing very much the same thing. For a silent moment she watched him, a dulcet song settling across her heart as she looked upon her flesh and blood, and then swept her gaze across the scene for Eleuthera, or Ibis and Okeanos. They were not in the immediate vicinity, so Olive cooly strode forward and made herself known to the pudgy Séamus with an endearing kiss on the forehead. One day he might rebuke her affections, but she assumed today would not be that day. 


“Oh, little love,” she cooed. “What are you doing?”

The day in which Sam would rebuke his mother's affection was perhaps closer than Olive would have liked.  It lingered somewhere in the near distance, like the sun about to break o'er the horizon.  But for the doting forest-druid, that day was not today.  He turned his round, merry face to meet the soft green gaze of his mother and smiled.

Any other parent would likely be disappointed in him.  Séamus was, if you will, a short and round fellow with a kind (but rather dull) countenance.  Even for a pup he had abnormally large paws, and as an adult he would not grow into them.  His only saving grace was that his heart rivaled the great size of his feet and he was full of conviction unlike that of any other.

Mam! he cried as he threw his short, stocky limbs about, Why, I can't get up these-here rocks!

“Séamus, you are so funny,” the pale mother claimed with a titter, at him, but rather with him. Her littlest son was so good-natured and mellowed that sometimes she wondered if he understood how endearing his every action was; how sweet his words sounded to her ears. He was as free from sin and guilt as were the gods themselves, and without Oaxaca, spending time near the little cherub was one of her greatest joys. She relished in it, and wondered how long such innocent bliss would last.

The shakti woman wanted to coddle him and soothe his every worry and woe. Was that not what childhood was about — being free to frolic and believe in oneself with a gusto that was rarely reserved for adults, with their many anxieties and worries? Recent weeks might have been trials for the small family, but now was the time for gentle realities and bolstered confidence. She smiled sweetly.
“These rocks are big now…  but one day, you will grow large, and conquering them might become your favorite thing.” 

“But, you know,”  she continued, sitting her haunches against the ground. “The gods say that earth is made of just one big rock. We will never grow larger than that.”   Would she ever really know the truth of this? No, but once when she was younger, a nascent Olive dug with all her might to locate the pit of the earth — she dug her paws into the dirt for hours upon hours, and by the time she had exhausted herself from her efforts, she had found nothing more than dirt and sheetrock. With a wry smile at the memory, seeing much of herself in her young son, Olive flicked her ears and gently chided “We must always know our place.”