Whitefish River And you know you're never sure, but you're sure you could be right
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Ooc — hela
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#5
His eyebrows drew together, and he studied the Count curiously for a few moments. Ask nicely? Mom had said that to him a few times, but he still failed to understand what exactly was not nice about the way he asked for things. But like all the times before, he chose to contemplate it silently rather than ask. Maybe one day he would ask mom or dad to explain. Today, though, he was more interested in the toy still annoyingly in the tree.

Climb, he repeated. Then he glanced from Evergreen to the toy and then back again. Why not? he asked, frustration wrinkling his little freckled face. Whatever climbing was, he wondered why an adult couldn't do it.