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Truth Be told
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They were good children after all. He had lucked out, taking children from a stranger. He could have ended up with hellions, but no, they were nearly angels. They ate what he fed them, and truly he fed them the best parts of any game he brought home. They made no protests about sleeping beneath the floor boards, which Lysander told them was for their own safety, and very little did they whimper for their mother or father. Indeed, Lysander was growing quite attached to the little children, and they were safe with him so it seemed like a good fit. Davinci was too busy anyway, better they were with him than the short tempered male. Lysander found them toys in Halifax to play with, told them stories. They had a good life here.
Early this morning he pulled open the floor boards of the biggest compartment he had dug to find four little eyes blinking up at him, and gently he lifted out his living toys. The floor boards concealed all his most prized possession, and the puppies were among the most favored of what he believed to be his. “Well little fellows, look what I’ve brought you today.” Pulling the red ball out from behind his back he grinned, and the pups stared up quizzically. Sure, it was deflated a little, but most the balls he had come across in Halifax were completely flat. He did the best he could for them.
She barged in while he was showing them how to play with the new toy. They had just up a meal and were now playing contently when she came in. Turning up to her, his face was stoic, though he was amused she walked in on such a sight. “Mon enfants.” He had told her he had children after all, didn’t he? She should have believed him. “This here is Jake,” Lysander pointed to Conor, “And this one here is Oliver.” He indicated Emwe. Yes, Jake, Oliver and Lysander. One happy family.
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