In the evening, Dael and Ma sat by the fire, Ma mending clothes and humming soft songs, and Dael sang with her, easy lullabies he remembered from childhood.
“You trying to put me to sleep?” Ma asked.
“We both need to sleep - we’re two doing the work of four,” Dael said.
Ma tried to smile and failed. “We’re doing it well.”
“That we are.” Dael eased himself to sit at her feet, rest his head against her knee. “Tell me about the dancing stones.”
Ma tangled a hand in his hair and said, “When all the world was very young...”
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