Whitefish River but the hearts of small children are delicate organs

lil phone post

“Perhaps,”  the silver hummed to the first, eyes drifting to the bit of gift she’d given him.  “Once, I have seen ze moon ... fill ze skies. Maybe that is how moonstones come to be; or, maybe stars hit ze moon on their journeys over our head. They are other, though, and ... we might never know.”  She lulled once more into quietude, but the second wonderment returned her consideration to Dragomir, though the tones were less brilliant than before.

At first, as she parted her lips to answer, she didn’t register the deeper enquiry; mind still orbiting around the more mythological aspects of her find for him. Yet, as a musing of  “Well,”  went from her tongue, she seemed to snare herself, and soon lowered the softening of her eyes back to the earth’s treasure.  “It is a ... stone which soothes ze emotions, ze discomforts, and one which instills strength within oneself. It is said to bring good fortune to its beholder. I have not collected many in my pastime, but ... my dragon, I hope it may be a light for you, when all else is dark.”

Resting her chin upon minute paws, then:  “If one is not enough, I could bring you ten. Twenty,”  a phantom of a smile at her lips,  “We can make a treasure trove, here, no?”