The small child was smearing globs of honey onto Granoldi's feet, laughing to herself as he was trying to lick the pads clean.
Hannah-Mary caught her by the arm just before she took a stick to the complaisant animal.
"Enough child!"
Mirabella turned to look at her mother, and finally caught her seriousness.
She burst into tears.
Even at the small age of two, Mirabella could feel awash with the shame of a disapproving mother - that, and her will being thwarted.
Hannah-Mary knew that her little daughter was good at heart - and never wantonly disobedient. She turned to Murmur who was cleaning a calf-skin behind her.
“Brother”, she began - in the tone that she had just used a minute before - “couldn't the Grande live elsewhere? You know how difficult it is for me having to watch over two children.”
“Where would you have him go? This is his home, Sister. He requires the fires we light, his arthritis pains him in the cold - the old one would not last long on his own in the forest. And were he in the village the people would tease hm overbearingly.
He smiled, she sighed.
“It is no use trying to convey to you - your heart is closed to my words. What am I to do? Time was when we were of one mind, as twins” she complained.
She stopped to wipe the blue berry stain from Bella's mouth. Her chubby hand was tossing the remainder onto Granoldi's face, who alike to any senior convalescent had dozed during the discussion, slumped at the base of his well worn tree.
Little Bella had crawled onto ''oldie's" lap and had now fallen asleep also - just after planting a crown of grass and leaves around his giant head. The old bear was snoring again.
“I wouldn't worry so Sister,” Murmur replied to her anxiety.
-Gabriel Brunsdon, AZLANDER: NEVER ENDINGS: Second Chances
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