Heron Lake Plateau sherbet head

A thought-provoking scare, even one as dramatic as nearly being eaten, wasn't enough to keep Svalinn from mischief as he became more and more dissatisfied with the size of his world. He was simply outgrowing the densite he shared with his mother and sister -- familiarity was beginning to feel boring rather than safe, and his interests were ever-expanding, swelling each day he learned the name of something new.

He made a daring escape from beneath Caiaphas' sniper-glare, and further attributed his freedom to his own skill, rather than her generosity -- which was more likely the case. The boy had busied himself among some fronds by a drying stream, rolling about and getting a nice lather of wet dirt across his shoulders before a nearby yelp took him out of his enjoyment.

Svalinn flinched and hesitated to make his next move. Clubbed with indecision, he debated scurrying home -- for he was getting quite good at navigating that alone -- but in the absence of any more distressing sounds, he chose instead to investigate. He clamored up through the bushes, giving them a hellish tremor as he squeezed forward along his belly and then picked up his head when he was free of the branches to watch today's form of entertainment: an odd scene unfolding between Niamh and an unfortunately-positioned young male.