03-07-2009, 01:44 AM
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Swimming, fishing, hunting, exploring; all of it sounded so great and surreal to him that it may as well have come straight from a story book. Even if swimming made him a little leery of being back in that lake and in that water (though he had only been cast out on it when it was iced over), it sounded like fun. Fishing would naturally have to be done the same way, seeing how he was at that moment, still too young to grasp shifting. “What kinds of flowers will you grow?” he asked, curious as to what knowledge she had of those. He had yet to see many of them, though there was certainly plenty of floral things to be found in the house. Fake plants, caked with grime and dust, the paintings and photographs of long ago; they even coated the walls on paper. And of course, he was delighted to know that they would go hunting too, but he kept that a masked secret that was only seen through a brief glimpse of fire inside his eyes.
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