Bound to The Enemy of My Mate
“That’s a frog, Kieran. It says ribbit. Don’t eat it, it’s crunchy.”
She glared at anyone who looked at him for too long, her small face fierce. Her innocent, possessive love was a bright flag next to Elira’s empty pole.
One afternoon, Thane returned from the eastern ridge where he’d been scouting timber. He was dusty and tired. Kieran, playing with carved blocks near the hearth, saw him and let out a happy gurgle. He pushed himself up on wobbly legs, arms outstretched, and took two stumbling steps.