Seaside Moors there was once a poet

They came, and they went.  Rosalyn was out when the call came.  She and Erzulie took the children in turns, and on occasion, would leave them to another of the pack.  Motherhood was a near constant vigilance these first few weeks.  She lifted her head, but the voice was recognizable, and the instant she heard it she began to run that way.

Scarab, she said, smiling, but holding back momentarily from going straight to him.  Reyes' aversion to touch had made her hesitant to overwhelm their children upon their return.  She looked him over, then took a small step closer.  How are you?