Lost Creek Hollow rockabye

The tremble in his lip continued to quake – his watery eyes peeking over at his sister before a quick intake of breath offered a muffled sob. He expelled his breath slowly, one ear flickering at the sound of his father’s voice, but his eyes were upon his sister alone.

Larkspur crept forward, and once the warmth of her body pressed to his in a soothing manner, the boy quieted instantly again, his last sob a hiccup before he nestled his nose in to the downy softness of her fur. Surrounded by family and love, his breathing soon evened, his chest rising and falling in a more peaceful pattern. Sleep did not come to him yet though, and peering up, Pippin glanced at his father seriously. “Dad, a monstah hurted my throat.”