Plurk paste

235 days

37th day of Lhain 12423 / 8th of Yulin 386

“Sira, sweetheart, don't chew with your mouth open,” his mother said.
“Sorry Mama,” Sira said, after carefully swallowing his peas.
“That's alright darling,” she said, giving him a fond smile.
Cadence Goldenedge was a beautiful woman, with long brown hair and bright blue eyes framed by dark lashes. Despite the fact that she was only eating dinner with her two small children, she still sat with a grace and poise envied by women across Elysia.
“Don't wanna eat my basica,” little Telyn said, staring at the offending vegetable with disgust.
“That's brasica sweetheart,” Cadence said, emphasising the r, “And you must eat at least a little bit. Unless of course you don't want to grow up big and strong like your father.”
Telyn pouted, knowing she'd been beaten by her mother's logic.
“I like brasica,” Sira said happily, “They're like little spirals.” He held a piece up to demonstrate.
“Yes, they are aren't they?” Cadence agreed, fighting back a grin.
“Don't care what they look like,” Telyn muttered, eyeing the piece she held between her chopsticks with distaste, “Still taste yuck.”
Cadence sighed, “Come on darling, the sooner you finish your vegetables the sooner you can have dessert.”
Telyn gave her mother a shrewd, calculating sort of look, “What sort of dessert?” she asked.
Cadence somehow managed to keep a straight face, used to her daughter's antics.
“Chef said he was making a chocolate cake,” she replied, knowing perfectly well that was her daughter's favourite.
But Telyn just raised a tiny eyebrow, “With cinn-mon and vanilla?”
Cadence bit back a laugh, “And a pinch of chilli,” she confirmed.
At this little Telyn's eyes widened and she began shovelling the brasica into her mouth at a rapid fire pace. It was at this moment, Telyn with her mouth stuffed with brasica, Sira giggling at his little sister's behaviour and Cadence smiling fondly at both of them, that their father walked in.
“Well well, what have we here?” he boomed, grinning widely at the sight of his family.
“Daddy!” Sira cried, leaping from his chair to run over to where Smalltalon was standing in the doorway.
“Da-y!” Telyn tried to say through the mouthful of half chewed brasica.
“Now sweetheart, don't talk with your mouth full,” Cadence reminded her, looking over at her husband with a pleased smile.
“Daddy, daddy, guess what?” Sira asked, tugging at the wide belt looped around his father's robes.
“What is it Sira?” Smalltalon said, lowering himself down to his son's eye level.
“I petted an Ankara today,” Sira told him, eyes bright.
“Oh did you now?” Smalltalon asked, giving his son a fond smile, “And was it very soft?”
Sira nodded, unable to take his eyes off his father, “Oh yes, softer than Alma!” he said, referring to his favourite stuffed toy.
“That sounds lovely sweetheart,” Smalltalon said, gently taking Sira's small hand into his own. “And have you been taking care of your mother while I was gone?” he asked.
Sira nodded quickly, “But we all missed you, you were gone so long,” he said, his eyebrows drooping.
“Oh, I know sweetheart, I missed you too,” Smalltalon said with a sigh, “But Daddy had business to take care of in Othniel.”
Over at the dining table, Telyn had finally finished all the brasica on her plate, “Did you see any kitty people while you were there?” she asked, eyes bright with curiosity.
“Feray sweetheart, they don't like being called 'kitties',” her father said, lips twisted in amusement.
“But did you?” Telyn asked.
Smalltalon smiled, “Yes darling, Othniel is one of their big cities, so I met lots of them there,” he explained patiently.
A sharp knock sounded against the dining room door.
“Who could that be?” Cadence asked, giving her husband a confused frown.
“I don't know,” Smalltalon murmured, frowning as well. “Come in!” he called.
The door swung open to reveal a porter, who announced in crisp tones, “Master Daim Pandare to see you.”
Smalltalon frowned further at this, “Send him in.”
He's not supposed to be here, Sira thought as Daim walked in. He looked about fourteen, though he was wearing the same white shirt, with black pants and suspenders, that he had been when Sira had seen him last.
Hang on, what?
Daim made a beeline for Sira, “Come on Sira, it's time to go,” he said.
“No,” Sira said, turning to hide behind his father – but suddenly there was a chain around his wrist, yanking him closer towards Daim.
“Sira, we don't have time for this, wake up!” Daim demanded.
“No! I don't want to go!” Sira shouted, “Father!”