Sun Mote Copse Leaving blood on the paintwork, though primroses grow in circles round his feet.

Towhee’s head jerked when Skipjack came shooting out of the den. If Meerkat was right, was he about to crash into something? He did fall, though that seemed like a pretty typical puppy stunt. She kept a shrewd eye on him as he recovered and then ran straight at her, with uncanny precision if he was blind.

She immediately reached out and scooped the Bairn into her arms. Skipjack raised no protests as she cradled him. His little forepaws came up to explore her face. Towhee pressed a kiss to his fat pink belly, then drew back a little to look into his sweet little face. Especially up close like this, she could see that the little boy’s eyes weren’t actually focused on anything in particular.

I think, she began to say, only to glance up and see that Meerkat had heeded her advice and fallen asleep. Your mama might be right, she continued in what she hoped was a lowered voice. But it doesn’t matter, does it? You’ll be able to talk in no time. ‘Til then, we can just communicate in Xs and Os.

And she planted a kiss on his forehead and pulled him closer to her chest, happy when her grandson seemed to enjoy the cuddles so much that he promptly fell right back to sleep in her arms.