Nova Peak midnight stroll

For @Swift ..!

The similarities made Bazi's stomach turn.

She had not thought of her great uncle for a long time. Like all other memories of childhood, he had been parcelled up and stored to make room for new experiences - unhampered by the past. Forgetting was one of Bazi's greatest strengths, and Swift was compromising that ability.

He looked just like Orwell. The same dark stripe - a family trait that neither Bazi nor her siblings had inherited, but apparently it had hitch-hiked on their DNA only to appear several generations later.

But the similarities were only physical. So far, at least.

It was late, but daylight stretched into the later hours in the summer. Three of her children were asleep, curled up next to their father in the back of the den. She had chosen Swift from among them, curling her body around his and resting her chin on the ground mere centimetres from her son's snoozing face. Even in deep sleep, he looked to be on high alert - as though the merest hint of a sound would rouse him. "Do you want to go outside, Swift?" Bazi whispered, testing this theory.