Hideaway Strath Still without voices we cry out

The more she spoke of Roarke, the more unsteady Sirius felt. His belly rolled uncomfortably on the inside, and a soft panic trilled in his mind that warned him she thought more of the snowy little tyrant than she did of him. The fact that she was capable and allowed to think of others, just as he did, eluded him in that moment, and all he could feel was an unfamiliar envy budding inside him that whispered a thousand untruths into his sweetly disillusioned head. Her moist nose against his chin took him from this moment, distracting the boy as his thoughts turned to something it hadn't before: he had a jawline was long enough to trace now. He no longer had a roly cheek compressed shortly to his neck -- he was practically a man now!

He might have further wondered at what else was new about him that he hadn't noticed, in the distracted way a child's mind worked, but his focus settled again on Hemlock and her pained assertion that it would not do her well if Sirius were gone. "I don't want you to break, mama" he said, scooting up against her and nipping at the lobe of her closest ear. "I like you in one big piece!"