Lion Head Mesa blade

she blinked up at her mother, smiling, full of wonderment. what was it that the other said? toula could not distinguish question from statement, and so her own intonations varied in inflection. aaayyy? pay. mmmmm... la? abawa, and into a string of babbles she went, voice soft and then strong as she started to make use of it. it made her mother respond, and toula need not understand a thing to just know that she loved the sound. and its purpose, toula had determined, was to bring happiness!
her mother loomed nearer, though toula did not shirk or shrink. she squealed happily instead, reaching out her neck to speak in the way she still knew best. where other things could be put to question, toula knew this translated to their expression of mutual adoration. the warm rush of air was soothing, and unbidden her eyes fluttered closed as she leaned against her mothers nose.
toula seemed to rally against sleep for only a moment. her eyes opened and she wished to extend these minutes for as long as she could! another warm exhale, though, coaxed her to yawn and lay. she could close her eyes for a minute, no? and then she and her mother could resume their riveting exchanges...
tutu came, though there were no nightmares to protect her from.