Blacktail Deer Plateau mine was a religion and happiness was a fact

In response to Mordecai's comment, Harlyn could only smile.  It wasn't too often that she chose to speak in her native tongue, but when it came to her family members, it felt wrong to use the traditional english references.  Her grandmother's name wasn't "grandma" - it was máthair mhór, and that's exactly what she intended to call her whether the person she was speaking to knew the language or not.


While Mordecai proceeded to share some of his own family history, Harlyn continued to pick at the moss.  She listened carefully as he spoke, though, and by the end of it found herself watching him intently instead of continuing with her work.  "That's so wonderful," she commented with a soft smile, "Did your parents ever share those stories with you - of the stars?  I'd be interested to hear them."

Her tail wagged as she began to wonder if he perhaps had a favorite.  Her musings quickly turned into a mental image of Mordecai as a little boy, begging to hear the tail of the crow or of the big bear while nestled in the crook of his mother's arms.  A longing stirred in her heart, not for the first time, but perhaps stronger than before, and growing every day.