Sequoia Coast tell me how it is being the sun

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Szymon had emptied himself of words, but Doe continued to talk to Qilaq — a river of reassurance and affection that comforted the golden-eyed father as much as the gray-eyed daughter. “Qilaq,” he murmured in answer to the girl’s plaintive cry. “All will be well.” He didn’t know this — couldn’t guarantee it — but he wanted so badly for it to be true that he didn’t mind lying. He angled his shoulder forward, trying to knock down the walls of snow to allow easier walking for their girl, and set his sights grimly on the coastline.

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