but now we're sleeping at the edge
holding something we don't need
Different. Special. They felt nicer than ‘broken.’ They warmed him from the inside out, and he felt a little like he was glowing, the fear evaporated as quickly as it had distilled in his bones, and he grins, turning his expressive almond eyes from Oksana to Dempsey and finally to Isle. “I think Isle is supposed to be just like you, silly!” he exclaims in his head, bouncing from one foot to another, shaking his tiny head so that the fluff of his forelock stood up like an exclamation point for a second before poofing back down.
He grins at his dad and does his best to wink back, mimicking the action as be as he could, but finding that it only made him blink rapidly with one eye and then the other, Wyck sneezing from the exertion of it. Startled, he took a step back before catching himself. He felt that familiar itch in his throat again, that laugh silently rolling along his nerves, but nothing came out—the sound instead echoing in his brain.
“Can we go exploring?” he piped up, turning to his dad because it seemed like he understood him the best. His tiny ears perked and he bounced slightly up and down. “I smelled really cool things and I saw something with a fluffy tail and I want to explore, dad. Pleeeeease.” He draws out the syllable in his mind, his head jerking between his parents and the border that led to the playground. His gaze turned to his mom and he made the motion more purposeful, hoping that she too would understand the request.
is going to bring us to our knees
