Dawnlark Plains when god falls fast asleep

he smiled as the little one repeated the word, the expression fading as he went on. don't. cold. he was not all-knowing, in spite of what river might think, and naturally misinterpreted it, cuddling the boy closer. "it's all right, bachcha," aditya murmured, laying his head down so that the pup was curved into his neck. it wasn't comfortable, but he was too tired to care. "i'll keep you warm."

in spite of the warm weather--well, as warm as these plains got, anyway--he did feel a little chilly. but he'd not let the child know that, not in a million years. no, to river, he was warmth, and shelter, and comfort. . .and he'd hold up that image for as long as he possibly could.