He put his daughter to bed for the evening, closing the door behind him.
"You go to sleep now," he said. "Big day tomorrow. It'll be your tenth naming day. Won't that be nice?"
Resting his head on the doorjamb, he could hear her still rustling around in her bed.
"Hey now, love, it's time for sleep. The sandman will come and bring you lots of lovely dreams about all the fun you'll have tomorrow. Sleep sweet, princess. I love you," he whispered as he closed the lock on the door, eyes closed shut against the continued sounds of muffled movement. Picking up the bucket of butcher's scraps sitting by the door, he walked over to his his chair, setting the bucket down and glancing over at the door, barely audible moans beginning to come from behind it.
Staring at the dancing flames of the fire in the hearth, he thought about what would happen the next day.
"You'll look so beautiful, just like your mother. Yes. Just like her," he murmured, absently rubbing the bandage over the still unhealed bite wound.
-S
"What do you take me for? Some kind of big damn hero?"
Sergei Petsho, Voivode and Steward of Inovar, Owner and Masseur Extraordinaire of Magic Hands Massage.
"What, it's for my research, I swear!"
Nigel Whitworth, Gentleman Apothecary
"Here, kid, suck on this and shut up for a while."
Aengus MacAengus Hesperus, Professional Old Person
OOG: Chris Zipeto
Storyteller
