Wishful Thinking (Quaggan, Paladienne, Shining Edge)

[Eckhart_Von_Musel]

Tucked in between Wyrm Mountain and Drewett Woods, Whitechalk Manor seemed more isolated today than it usually did. The sun was setting- or it would have been, had the storm clouds not been in the way. A cold breeze blew from the west, rustling leaves and branches as it passed. Thunder rumbled in the distance, and the smell of oncoming rain was becoming more and more noticable with each passing minute.

"No."

Outside the manor door, Basil Whitechalk stamped his foot in a huff. "Come onnn Junebug!" the boy whined. "You always say no! It's not fair!"

His older sister Juniper sighed and rolled her eyes. The older girl was taking yet another trip to Wyrdwood Academy to meet with that Susie girl, why couldn't he go with her? Basil had turned thirteen two months ago, so it's not like he wasn't old enough- that was Juniper's last excuse.

Stepping inside the carriage that had been waiting for her, the young woman shot her brother a exasperated look. "Don't call me Junebug." she said coldly. "You can't come because I said so. Now stop asking."

Basil pouted. "No! I want a better-"

"I wish you'd go to your room." Basil's eyes widened as he opened his mouth to protest, but it was too late. Staring at something the boy couldn't see, Juniper put a finger on her chin. "Nine over twelve."

In an instant, the boy found himself walking back inside. "Hey! That's no fair!" he cried out as his legs moved him up the stairs. "That's like, cheating!"

Once inside his room, the boy's legs stopped. Immediately Basil rushed to the window, peering outside to see Juniper's carriage disappear behind a bend in the road. The young noble was furious. How could she treat him like that! Family was supposed to stick together!

Well, if Juniper wouldn't take him, Basil would just have to tag along without her noticing. The boy rushed out of his room and down the staircase, slowing down in the main hall so as not to attracted the attention of any butlers or servants. When he was sure the coast was clear, Basil flew the the door and sprinted down the road. There was a narrow portion of road where the carriages always had to slow down- he could catch up to the carriage there!

The young man smiled as he ran, excitement beginning to pour through him. This was going to be a grand adventure, he just knew it!

[Paladienne]

A quiet shadow studied the grounds with a critical eye. There wasn't much security, but that meant nothing in a country filled to the brim with mages. She knew what to look for, and didn't see it. This family was known for its secrecy, known for keeping to themselves, and never letting any outsider close, so she had figured there would be more to their grounds than just what her eyes could see.

Masiel scowled.

She didn't trust easy jobs. She didn't trust that things could go so perfectly. The universe tended to step in and turn something perfectly good into something downright awful, so she'd stopped expecting things to go exactly as she wanted them to a long time ago. She continued to watch the grounds, studying the mansion as if it was some giant puzzle she needed to find the right piece to, and then all of its secrets would be revealed to her.

Movement caught her eye, drawing it to a carriage and a young woman about to step into it, only to be halted by a boy, no more than thirteen.

Their target.

Masiel lifted an elegant hand and flashed her fingers in quick succession - once, twice, thrice - to signal her partner, who waited and watched from a vantage point that hid him from any watchful eye. Masiel herself would be invisible, blending so well into the shadows it might as well have been as if she didn't exist at all.

They were arguing, the children. Masiel watched, half amused, as the girl drew herself up with all the authority of an older sister and said something that had the boy turning around and heading back into the mansion. Then the girl was in the carriage and it was moving away from the house, down the road, and out of sight.

Masiel continued to watch. She didn't want to breach the premises so soon, not without some proper scouting, which she would have to do on her own. Her partner was far too large to go unnoticed, as she could. But before she could slip out of her hiding spot and move to investigate, the front door of the mansion flew open once again and out came the target, running for the road.

She scowled again, but she wasn't going to give up such a prime opportunity.

She dropped from the tree that had been holding her and to the ground below, landing easily and silently like a hunting cat. She rose to her full height then and looked at her partner.

"Quickly. To the road. The boy's running right into our hands. We can catch him and be gone before anyone's become the wiser."

With that, she raced toward the road, her lithe form lending to an easy stride. She trusted her partner to follow and to keep up. Now and then, she would pause, her head cocked to one side as she listened, and then she silently would gesture and continue on. She intended to intercept the boy before he could catch up with the carriage, which meant she had to let the carriage pass before they could make an attempt for their target. So she followed the road, keeping to the brush and the trees, moving as silent as a shadow. She heard the carriage before she saw it. Pausing, she kept herself hidden while the carriage passed and was making for the narrow portion in the road. Only after the carriage was out of sight did she move, heading further up the road.

And there he was, running as fast as his legs could carry him. His face, bright and beaming, showed no fear.

Masiel sighed. She disliked hurting children, but a job was a job. And so, as soon as the boy was close enough, she snatched the boy off his feet and pressed a cloth to his mouth.

[Shining Edge]

A second shadow, garbed in a cloak of midnight and surrounded by a general air of danger, watched on from the foilage. Glacial eyes peered out from the gaps in the green, a cold gaze flicking constantly between the mansion before them and to the tree that was concealing his partner. It was only a few minutes before there was movement before the house, and those cold eyes flicked back to the tree to catch the flicker of a signal Masiel sent to him.

See.

Observe.

Wait.

Three quick motions that he'd come to understand from his time working with her, signals that were the basis of nearly every operation they ever took. See the action as it happens. Observe, and learn the best course of action. Wait for me, first, instead of crashing through everything with that giant sword of yours.

Brogan smirked, as he remembered that last part. She was the quiet one, the knife in the dark, the last thing the dead never saw. But him? He was the answer to the locked door with no keyhole, the one man army to stand before the opposition. He was *insurance,* in all things, to watch her back as she watched his, and to ensure that, no matter what, they both returned alive. He was the one that could be reckless enough for the both of them, and still live to tell the tale.

Brogan watched as the boy argued with a girl older than himself, only to, a moment later, turn heel and walk back inside as if forced by another power. He arched a brow. Curious.

His gaze again flicked to the tree, as his shadowy counterpart dropped to the earth with grace. He nodded in affirmation to her words, and slid, surprisingly quietly, from concealment. Long legs, lending to the half-giants tall frame, moved with surprisingly swift strides to follow after his partner.

While he would be capable of overtaking her in a charge, he knew the smarter course was to stay at her back, stopping and making himself hidden whenever she would pause. He kept an eye on their path and their surroundings, ears tuned in to listen for any sounds other than their own breaths, and watched her only when she stopped. It was almost eerie, the way someone so large could move so swiftly and silently, despite carrying a blade nearly as large as the figure moving in front of him.

He stopped, seeing her leave the cover of the brush and bush, and kept lookout for others. This was going far too easily, he knew, even as he watched her snatch the boy and silence him. He was uneasy, crouching unseen behind the brush, expecting at any moment for the plan to go awry.

Nothing was ever simple.

He let his gaze slide from Masiel and the boy to turn back down the road, back toward the manor the boy had emerged from. He let out a low whistle to get her attention, and moved just so, out of concealment to let her see him. He signaled for her to make herself scarce, as he kept an eye down the road.

[Eckhart_Von_Musel]

Basil's grin grew wider as he sprinted down the road, the bend in the road get closer with each passing second. "Almost there!" the boy thought excitedly. "Now I just need to get onto the carriage without- oof!"

Something had grabbed the boy, pressing a funny smelling rag to his face. "Hey!" he cried out, voice muffled. "What's going on? Juniper? W...wha's happen..."

Basil's body began to relax, in spite of his fear. Soon the boy had gone limp, eyes closing sleepily. He heard a soft whistling noise, and then everything went black...

[Paladienne]

Masiel tightened her grip around the boy as the drug soaked into the rag took effect. She pulled the child closer to her, gently removing the rag once she was certain he was sound asleep. He wouldn't wake for some time, and by the time he did, the odd trio would be far from home and far from help, and lest the boy wanted to strike out on his own - not that she would allow that - his only chance of survival lay with her and her partner.

At Brogan's sharp whistle, she looked up at him, her eyes narrowing at his signal. He wouldn't tell her to hide unless it was for a good reason. She looked down the road, back toward the way the boy had come but saw nothing. Yet, she trusted her partner's instincts and would obey, especially since she was the one with the precious cargo.

She pulled the boy up over her shoulder like he was a sack of potatoes and quickly left the road, heading into the shadows where she would be less noticeable. She couldn't climb with her burden, but she could vanish with it, becoming synonymous with the shadows surrounding her and invisible to any eye. She set the boy down where he would be hidden by brush and invisible from the road, and she gripped his shoulder tightly so that she could not be taken by surprise should the boy be discovered. But Masiel herself virtually disappeared, leaving Brogan as the only person on the road.

She strained her delicately curved ears, listening for any sound that might be out of the ordinary. She feared not for her partner's safety. If anything, she feared the mess that might be left behind. Nothing sent the wrong message like a bloody pile of body parts, after all.

[Shining Edge]

The boy was unconscious in Masiel's arms, and soon after she had moved his limp form off of the road and out of view. Brogan's eyes were not on her, though he knew the routine well enough to anticipate what she was doing, and the lack of sound was telling enough that she had successfully hidden away without mishap.

The target had been safely acquired. Everything was going off without a hitch. That bothered the large man, and for a long moment he kept his stony gaze on the road before him. The child lived as part of a known family, within a manor staffed with servants and guards. The boy would - or, at least, should - have had eyes on him at all times. And if he didn't, then those eyes would be searching for him very soon, once they realized he wasn't in obvious sight on the premises.

Those eyes, and the bodies they were attached to, would need to be silenced. That was the thought in the large man's mind. Rid themselves of their shadow, before the shadow even knew what they were shadowing. They had a long journey ahead of them, in order to fulfil their contract, and he would rather not have a gang of mages and armed guards chasing them through the hills.

With that in mind, Brogan calmly broke from the cover of the brush, moving in purposely slow strides as his gaze never left the road. His footfalls, heavy with his booted feet, made audible noise upon the grass, the sounds akin to that of a hammer falling upon a covered mattress.

Loud. Obvious. Imposing.

As if it wasn't enough, the large man reached back over his shoulder with his right hand, and calmly slid his claymore free of its scabbard. The blade, wide and thick and as sharp as a brand new straight razor, gleamed brightly in the light for a moment, before Brogan came to stop in the middle of the road, and placed the blade, point down, in the dirt. He stood there, a sentinel, in the open, alone and welcoming a coming challenge. His dark cloak fell around his shoulders as he leaned his head downward, glacial eyes still staring ahead. His blade was nearly obscured, hidden as it was from the light, with its only evidence being the large hilt he had placed his hands on top of.

He would stand, and he would wait. Either someone would come, or they would not.

[Eckhart_Von_Musel]

The Nightshades hadn't been the only ones tailing Basil. Maurice Piper, ex-ranger and current head butler, had seen the boy slip out the door and followed suit. The older man moved deftly through the shadows on the edge of the road, wishing to remain unseen until he knew what had inspired the boy's actions. If it was an attempt to run away, then it was his duty to stop Basil and bring him bacck home. However, if Miss Juniper had invited her brother along with her after all, then Piper would likely be punished for doubting the young man's intentions.

In an instant, the boy's motivation for leaving became irrelevant. The sudden attack caused the man to stop dead in his tracks. Quickly he regained his composure, darting deeper into the shadows. Piper did his best to assess the situation, his mind a blur. There were two of them, one of whom was now standing guard in the middle of the road. The other seemed to have vanished, taking the boy with them. Had they sensed the butler's presence?

Thunder rumbled in the distance as Piper slowly reached into his coat pocket, pulling out a cyathil sewing needle. It was a tool he hadn't had to use since he'd left the Ranger Core, and it felt strange to hold it in his hands once again. The man counted his options. Returning to the manor to summon the guards wasn't an option- the assailents would have dissappeared by that point. If he attacked the giant man on the road, could he subdue him and question him? Or would the other emerge from the roadside to provide backup? Had they already taken Basil and left the man as a decoy? Should he wait and continue to follow them?

Piper grit his teeth- now wasn't the time to be indecisive. Silently moving through the shadows, he found a distance between himself and the impossibly tall figure. The man was in full armor, but Piper didn't need to draw blood in order to dispatch him.

Stringing a long thread through the loop, the butler threw the needle as one would a knife, aiming for the giant's cloak. Assuming the man didn't dodge it, the needle would quickly sew itself into the fiber. Piper tugged on the thread, and the cloak would attempt to wrap itself around the man's neck so as to strangle him...

[Paladienne]

Masiel watched from the shadows, her eyes picking up the subtle movement of something traveling through the darkness. She didn't give a warning to Brogan, knowing that, after years of fighting with her, training with her, and fighting and training with others besides, he would know what to look for. Whoever had followed the boy was good, but not as good as he thought he was. There were things that made Masiel understand that whoever this was, he was an expert at his craft and he was willing to do whatever it took to see victory. He was silent, he was focused, and that usually boded well for one who wanted to accomplish something and not make a scene.

That was how the Nightshades - mostly - operated, after all, and so Masiel could appreciate the same qualities in others in her trade, or not in her trade, as the case might be.

She knew Brogan could handle himself. There were very few things that could lay the half-frost giant low, and if she couldn't with all her tricks, then whoever it was that was emulating her definitely couldn't. Similarly, she knew that she wouldn't be able to come to his rescue, even if he needed it. If anything, he would stay behind and cover her escape while she continued on with the mission. That was how the Nightshades operated, too.

Whatever the feelings, whatever the relationship, between the operatives, the mission came before all of that.

Masiel tightened her grip on the boy and prepared herself to snatch him up and run. They had horses picketed not too far away, prepared for a swift get away. If she needed to, she would go, and trust that Brogan would catch up.

[Shining Edge]

From a young age, Brogan had fought. He'd fought for food. He'd fought for his very survival. He'd fought for money. And in doing so, he had fought most of what there was to fight. Man, beast, what have you. Thugs, warriors, mobs, thieves...assassins. He'd sampled all types.

Yeah. He knew what to look for.

A man or woman sneaking about in the brush had been one of the least likely opponents Brogan had considered, but he had considered it. He knew how to fight those types. As he noted the continued silence around him, he could almost guarantee there was another out there, stalking in his direction. Call it a gut feeling, or a premonition, or whatever you want, he knew. He was proven right when at he saw the merest glint of light, as the suppressed sunlight caught on a sliver of metal travelling through the air toward him. In that instant, he smiled.

Gotcha.

He flung his right arm out in a flash of movement, pushing his cloak aside to deflect the needle heading towards him. He could just barely feel it, the metallic sliver being an even lighter a touch than he'd anticipated, as the needle bounced off his leather-covered forearm. And then, he could see what was attached to it - a long, barely-there thread, draping over his forearm as the needle continued on its new trajectory. In that split second, his gaze ran along it's length to see the direction it had travelled from.

As he moved again, Brogan snorted, reaching outward with a deft hand and grabbing that thread. With a snarl, he twisted his grip to allow the thread to wrap around his hand, and then he pulled, hard, hoping to drag the other into view.

[Eckhart_Von_Musel]

Shit

In one swift move, the beastly man had blocked the needle, gripping the the string tightly in his hand. Piper had no choice to step forward, leaving the cover of darkness. He was an elderly man, his darker complexion complimented by his silver hair. He wore an expensive suit, and a pair of half moon glasses rested on the bridge of his nose. The expression on the butler's face was an interesting mixture of contempt and uncertainty as he sized up his foe. "That," he said slowly. "Was the wrong move."

Almost instantly the string would tighten around the man's fingers, digging into his skin and threatening to cut off circulation. "Don't bother trying to cut it." Piper bluffed. "That thread is enchanted to be harder than steel."

It was a gamble. Piper was well past his prime, and even with his military background he stood little chance of winning against a foe such as this. However, if he could trick the man into thinking he had to play by Piper's rules, it could give the butler the edge he needed. "You should give while you're ahead." he said darkly, walkimg as if to circle the man. "I'm far more merciful than those who would follow."

[Paladienne]

Masiel watched the old man reveal himself and felt her disbelief for his stupidity overwhelm her. Really, if she wasn't so highly trained, her jaw would've dropped open and she would've popped out of hiding to yell at him for his stupidity. He'd had the advantage! He'd had the advantage of being concealed and could have ended Brogan before the battle had really begun. Not that Masiel believed anyone could put an end to her half-giant companion. She'd tried and had failed. He even bore a scar from that attempt.

Her eyes roamed over the old man, assessing. Age didn't matter. Neither did clothing. It was the skills that did matter, and the old man certainly had some skills. Yet, she could see the uncertainty on his face and that would be his undoing. If one did not have complete confidence going into a fight, then one would lose. One did not fight to win; one fought to survive.

She listened to his words and knew that even those wouldn't intimidate her partner. And she knew it was over when the old man threatened Brogan with surrender or death. Nightshades didn't surrender. They would rather die. Or, the alternative, kill whoever was trying to kill them.

Her eyes went to Brogan, took in his expression and his stance.

The old man was the one who should surrender, Masiel decided. Because Brogan wasn't going to be merciful, and there would be nobody following them to offer the old man anything.

Unless, of course, he believed in whatever gods he believed in, or believed there was something beyond death.

She sighed. Hurry up, Brogan. Get this over with. This passed amusing two seconds ago.

[Shining Edge]

Brogan's eyes widened momentarily as the man stepped into view - this widening was clearly due to shock, though not the type of shock brought on by fear. Merely surprise.

This other was old. He had the stature of one who knew how to fight, and the expression he bore allowed the half-giant to plainly see he was experienced. But, then again, so was Brogan. He knew how to fight; fighting was how he made his living in this world, after all. Also, Brogan could perceive the absence of complete confidence in the man's countenance, just as Masiel had.

Brogan's eyes narrowed again to their normal width, and all he could do was smirk. Whether the old man's words were true or not, he already had a plan of action for either case.

"The wrong move?" he started, and paused before letting out a deep, rumbling chuckle. "I would say the wrong move was sending Grandpa out to do a warrior's job. You have some skill; I can see it. Your stance reminds me of a wolf, experienced and plainly on the hunt. So, a wolf you shall be - but you are old, and your teeth and claws have blunted with age and use. Human's rarely get better with advanced age...I was hoping for something a bit more...worth the trip."

Brogan tested the strength of the thread with a slight tug; it seemed durable, but he wasn't sure if he would say it was as strong as steel, or any other metal for that matter. But even if it wasn't, the possibility of it being enchanted allowed for a course of action that would end this confrontation quickly. His hand, ensnared as it was in the thread, began to frost over as he attempted to push his magic down the "enchanted" thread, using the supposed enchantment as a conduit for his own energy.

The idea was to send a surge of ice energy down, through the thread, and directly into the old man's body, and freeze him from the inside out. It would have been a quick, painless death...a mercy, really, to put the old fool down quietly and without mess or fuss.

All Brogan managed was to brittle the thread, and a flex of his fingers caused the delicate fibers to shatter around his hand. He sighed as he watched the frozen pieces fall to the ground, and looked back to the man across from him.

"It really would have been better for you, had you been telling the truth about that thread. But now....well, I still have to put an old dog down. And it won't be clean, if the fight in your eyes isn't a lie as well."

Finally, the half giant removed the tip of his claymore from the dirt, hefting it easily in one hand, and slowly began walking forward. "This sword is plain steel, nothing special. I have no lies for you, old man, and I don't need them. I'll still kill you."

[Eckhart_Von_Musel]

The string froze, and then crumbled. Piper's already sunken heart fell further, what little hope he had dashed. The dark clouds overhead finally broke, a sprinkle of rainfall that slowly grew heavier. The butler sighed, then chuckled bitterly. "Well, I suppose that settles it then." he said dryly, an oddly satisfied smile on his lips. "I was replacable anyways."

The man would walk towards Brogan, seemingly having accepted his fate. "Be careful with the one you took." he said ominously. "I don't think you know what you've gotten yourself into."

[Paladienne]

Masiel wasn't sure what to make of what she was watching. It was like watching two lions go at it over prime territory, only one lion was so old and weak that his only option for survival was intimidating the other much younger male into backing off. Except this old lion was so toothless and weak that he had long given up before he had even tried, and Brogan had no doubt sensed that weakness and was already moving to put the old man out of his misery.

And yet, a part of her wondered if this wasn't some ploy on the old man's part. She knew her partner wouldn't drop his guard and simply assume the old man was ready to give up and die, knowing he was outmatched and out-muscled against Brogan. If there was one thing Masiel never did, it was assume. She knew Brogan did the same, considering he had a physical reminder to that fact. He wouldn't leave himself open for a surprise attack.

But at the same time...

The old man had said he was replaceable.

A true guardian, a true warrior, would never have said such a thing. A true warrior would never have such an odd expression on his face when facing an opponent, and intended to survive the fight they were about to engage in. Especially when another's safety depended upon victory.

Masiel sighed and focused on Brogan, waiting to see what he would do now.

[Shining Edge]

Brogan stopped walking, giving the old man an incredulous look in exchange for the words he had spoken. Was he giving up? Brogan had seen it; there was fight left in the old man not minutes before, but now he was throwing in the towel? Accepting his death?

....replaceable? No warrior worth his blade would call themselves replaceable, not unless they were already ceding defeat. No fight had taken place, not truly. This was rather disappointing, if Brogan had to be honest.

"...I'm sure we can handle the kid." Glacial eyes glanced about as if seeking others that may have been listening, though he sensed no others, didn't have the hair-raising feeling that someone else was watching them. Satisfied they were alone, he continued speaking. "My partner grabbed him easily enough and was able to silence him without difficulties. He's a child." His shoulders lifted in a short, impatient shrug. "Powers or no, a child - a human child, at that - is still a child."

His gaze locked onto the other once more, and his eyes narrowed. "But enough of that. If you're so keen on just giving up, I'll give you the death you're looking for." He began walking again, holding the claymore easily in one hand to one side, while his other lifted in Piper's direction. Brogan could fill the chill begin to rise through him, building at his core and spreading to his outstretched fingertips. At first, it appeared as if water was simply condensing on his hand as his flesh began to rapidly cool, but soon enough the use of his magic was beyond obvious. Those water droplets began to freeze as his hand sheeted over with frost and his energy broke beyond the constraints of his flesh. The air beyond began to mist in a path, the falling rain immediately freezing as it came in contact with it and falling to the ground, and the head of the snaking trail of magic twisting toward the old man.

When the path of frost magic met the frame of the other, the old man would find his body quickly growing cold and hard to move, ice rendering his muscles stiff and useless, his flesh becoming dead and inert. Even as Brogan sent more and more of winter's chill directly into Piper's body, he continued to move forward. When Piper was no longer moving - his flesh blue and frozen, and the life gone from his eyes - Brogan stopped before him.

"Such a waste of my time. Hopefully those that come before us in the future have a bit more bite to them than you did, old man." Brogan knew Piper could no longer hear him, as he stood a frozen statue in the clearing. But he didn't care.

The next movement Brogan made was swift and, to untrained eyes, almost impossible to track. Brogan's other hand twisted to present the flat of his blade to the frozen corpse standing before him and, in a flashing horizontal arc, slammed into the statue of ice. The strength of the half giant was more than enough to shatter the brittle ice, as frozen flesh and blood and bone was rent asunder with naught but force, scattered across the road in frozen chunks of meat.

"Pitiful...." Brogan muttered, glancing down at the pair of boots, ending in the shattered remnants of the other's legs, left frozen on the ground. He sniffed one time, and turned away from the sight, wiping the keen blade of his sword on his cloak before sheathing it and moving toward Masiel's location.

"...we'd best get moving, before others come. The manner of the kill should throw them off our trail...they'll be looking for a mage, likely, and not a brute like myself."

[Paladienne]

Masiel rose and hauled the boy up into her arms before tossing him over her shoulder like a sack of potatoes. The boy would be out for a while, and even when he did begin to wake, she had another dose ready and waiting for him. It wouldn't harm him; it would just make him groggy when he finally woke and the effects of the drugs finally wore off. But at that point, he wouldn't be their problem anymore. She looked over at Brogan's handiwork and assessed it with her trained eye. She smirked.

"No, nobody will think to follow us for a while. Let them run around in circles and look for what doesn't exist. It'll give us the head start we need. Hopefully, we'll be halfway there - if not making the delivery - before they realize their mistake." She returned her gaze to Brogan. "Good job, by the way. Much more controlled this time, I think. You're getting better at throwing people off the obvious trail."

She led her partner to where they had picketed the horses and carefully draped the boy over the saddle of her mount. She would have to adjust his position at some point, but for now, this would work just fine, as they needed speed rather than comfort. She mounted behind the boy and settled into the saddle, making sure the boy would be stable when they started moving. As soon as Brogan was mounted, she was putting her heels to her horse's flanks, urging the animal forward. She eased the horse into a gallop, and then the two Nightshades and their quarry were away, racing through the countryside to put as much distance between them and anyone who might be searching for the boy as they possibly could.

Within three weeks they would make the delivery and obtain the rest of their pay.

Within three weeks they would be once more hidden and unknown shadows to the rest of the world.

Masiel looked down at the boy draped across her lap and patted his back.