Onyssa
There is a new stack at the nursery door itself this morning, five pebbles, her tallest work yet, and when Vael asked its purpose she explained that it was so Mama finds the door faster next time. My wardens have begun placing quiet bets on the mother. I have not forbidden it.
Serath petitioned to confiscate the toy on grounds of discipline, and I denied him. The toy stays. Hope is harmless in a child who is going home. Soon she will be back in her mother’s arms with the claim unwritten and the whole affair fading the way early things fade, and the little dragon will have kept her warm in the meantime. History may say what it likes about me, but it will not say I took a toy from a grieving cub. Grump, I am further told, has money on the mother arriving by the front gate next time,
