Christoff stared down at the frightened, but determined youngling staring back at him. He nodded. It had been so long since he had listened to or spoken to anyone that it felt strange to be expected to respond. Instead, he just nodded and waited.
“Can’s you make the mountain quit shaking, please?” another soft voice asked. “It’s scary.”
Christoff’s eyes moved to the little girl that had spoken. She had light blonde hair the color of the suns and dark golden eyes. His eyes shifted to her lap. Her fingers were tenderly stroking the small furry head of a Sarafin cub. He had seen images of them when he was a boy.
“He’s hurt?” Christoff asked, noting the cub’s bloody paws.
“Yes,” Spring said, rubbing Roam’s left ear. “He try to helps Jabir.”
Christoff glanced over his shoulder at the edge.
