His little hand fitted into hers perfectly. One would think that she had perfectly designed that little boy's hand to fit into hers from her own flesh and blood, and one would be right. Dressed up in his fancy little clothes carefully selected, the little boy had her fiery hair and hazel eyes that always looked at him with such devotion and love. The woman's low stride slowed further as the pair came across a couple sharing a private moment. Later Alaric would know the man to be his father and the woman his wife. The boy's mother quickly turned them around, tears pooling in the depths of her kind eyes. She wiped at them with the hand not holding Alarics. The boy's face scrunched up at the sight of his mother crying.
"Don't cry mommy. We can go play with my toys. Or in the garden? Whatever
