Everything The Sun Touches

He smiled as she thought it over, quietly proud of her taking her time to give the best answer she could. When she grinned, he knew she’d found the answer, and while he was satisfied, she clearly wasn’t, so he bit his tongue, forcing back the praise in order to see what she had to add.

She gave him exactly what he would have reminded her of had she not caught it herself, and he nodded, tickly furred tail waving with his pleasure. "An-mhaith, Aurielle." He smiled and started forward, keeping his pace slow to accommodate her young legs.

The sun was just beginning to paint the sky in dull pastel blues, the precursor to the more vibrant fiery pinks, oranges and yellows of full dawn, when they broke into the plains. First, he led her toward the Meeting rock, sitting in the clear, beaten down place where his pack usually sat, gazing up at the boulder. He could remember when his mother sat there, though his view had almost always been from up on that boulder—first at her side, and then alone as she had stepped down.

He grinned down at his daughter and nodded to the boulder, saying, "Seo a bheidh an chéad cheacht agat i liicéad pacáiste, sula dtéann muid ar an mballa teorann. Cruinnithe."

He nodded at the area and then back to the boulder, suggesting cheerfully, "Tóg na boladh anseo."