“Listen to your fellow warrior, mi’sho’ki,”
Ashrock said, his voice coming from the shadows of the hallway. A moment later
he came around the corner. He scowled at them, brow furrowed. “Didn’t we tell
you both to find your beds? You have had a long, draining day, and the days
ahead will be even more so. Go!” He made a shooing gesture down the hall.
M’kar laughed. “Tell me a bedtime story, Po’pa?”
“Ah, there, you see?” He sighed gustily and
crossed his arms and leaned against the wall, still scowling, teasing, at the
two children. “You win one small battle, and you think you know better.” He
lunged, catching M’kar around the waist with his massive hands. She squealed as
he tumbled her upside down and hung her over his shoulder. He held her ankles
with one hand and swatted her bottom hard with the other. “You will obey as
long as I can spank you!”
M'kar could hardly breathe for giggling. Thyal’s wide-eyed expression melted into a grin.
“I have an idea, my fine young warriors.” Ashrock nodded as he lumbered down the hall to M’kar’s room, three doors down from Thyal’s, on the other side of the hall. “In the morning, we will have the hearth-kin ceremony. You fought together and for each other. That is something to celebrate. Even if you did not, sadly, shed any blood.”
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