11-01-2010, 08:55 PM
Geneva's smile faded around the edges, although her playful attitude remained. The truth was that their son was growing like a weed. It seemed that each time the Whilom blinked Pripyat had grown. When he had been much younger, he would come up to her with all sorts of questions about the world around him. Now she was most accustomed to seeing him in the distance, but he was much too old for her to be running after him. She felt like his shadow at times, and although her gentle-spoken son did not seem to chafe at her concern, his growing independence was a point of worry for her. She was glad that he was capable, but she hated to let go.
"I suppose I could make sure that you bathe regularly, and pester you about eating properly," Geneva mused, an edge of laughter to her tone. "And make certain that you don't stay out much after dark." She continued, fussing with his hair a little bit, arranging it so that it stayed out of his face. "Although I don't think I will be able to get you to play well with others," the gray woman said wryly.
"I suppose I could make sure that you bathe regularly, and pester you about eating properly," Geneva mused, an edge of laughter to her tone. "And make certain that you don't stay out much after dark." She continued, fussing with his hair a little bit, arranging it so that it stayed out of his face. "Although I don't think I will be able to get you to play well with others," the gray woman said wryly.