Bearclaw Valley i fancied myself a witch

as quick as laurel's anger had been there, it abated, and merrick learned a valuable lesson about his tones. the right ones could anger, the others did not. when his aunt leant in, the boy sought to swipe her chin with his tongue, approximating what he had seen others do. there. now she truly knew he was sorry.
"ummmm," he mused, tilting his head to one side. "we go see da birds?" by this he meant where a little flock of sparrows came to feed in the valley, a berry-patch near its entrance. his eyes blinked imploringly at the woman, tail swaying a bit behind his round haunches.