Lost Creek Hollow milk bottle

It was such a small gesture, but Mordecai supposed that even if he had a heart truly made of ice it would have thawed and melted slightly with minute movements that came to the gradually stilling boy. Of course what he could not help but take note of was still how small his children seemed, even after all the time that had passed. Not that he expected them to grow in leaps and bounds, but he knew there would be a time when such a thing would come. His own mother had often remarked how quickly it seemed children grew, and he of course then being a child, had never understood it.

But now, it would have seemed his own childhood was a million days and miles behind him, left somewhere beneath enough sand and dust to last a lifetime. Gently in his attempt to disturb the sleep-whisked son, Mordecai let own his head rest on the warm floor of the den and pushed those thoughts away. There was much time left before such things were apart of the past he thought and for now, he took enjoyment in the silence that had fallen over the den, save the resting breaths of them all.