Brenna

Before Ciaran could take a bite of the apple, the bird took to the sky with a harsh cry.

“Farewell, lad,” Brenna said, and she vaulted over the stone wall after it.

“My name’s Ciaran,” he protested, but she vanished over the crest of the hill almost too quickly to be humanly possible.

“Lad, bring your father some wine, would you?” Eoghan called from the other side of the hut.

Ciaran jumped. “Yes, Da!” He took a bite of the apple, then ducked into the hut for the jug of wine kept cooling under the table.

Her name was Brenna.