Epilogue
Two years laterArcas is pulling on the hem of my trousers, amusing himself. I sigh.
"You've got so many toys, sweetheart, why does it have to be my clothes?"
He just giggles and continues to tug on the fabric. His claws are just about sharp enough to make holes into my trousers. It's his favourite game. I've lost count on how often I've had to sew them.
Ruby's laugh makes me look up from my little bear cub. My daughter's on the swing the guys built her and Húnn is pushing her so hard that she's almost flying. She's loving it. She's still growing faster than expected, but it's slowed down a lot. She's two years old now, but she looks like she's about four. My gut tells me she's going to continue like other children from now on, but maybe I'm wrong. Her brother hasn't shown any
