Whitefish River And I see fire, hollowing souls,

Ira watched the boy carefully even when he turned his head to sulk. Who knows how long he had been left alone, though the slight perk at the mentioning of food suggested a while. A weak half-smile struck her at his mannerisms, he was either shy or stubborn, but based on the pout she'd bet on the latter. You don't need to speak, but I'd like to help you. There are other kids here, I can offer you a dry place within my den and a meal to start? Does that sound nice? Little did she know, one of her daughters had already found her way over. Perhaps if she had spidey mother senses she would have called Nutmeg out to meet the other as an attempt to get him to open up. Alas, she did not so her gaze flicked up to Orlaith as she nodded, See about finding a mother until then he will be raised here.