“Well, not everyone has your senses,” he said. “It has to serve.”
Dust made another suggestion.
“I am not finding a piglet to strap to my chest,” Vren started to squirm out of their hollow, staying low. “It might sound and move like a baby, but you just want a meal.”
Dust emerged behind him, her tongue lolling out of her open jaws.
“What would a desperate man with a newborn baby fleeing through the dark cold night do?” Vren mused. He took a breath of the cold, damp air and answered his own question. “Put as much distance between him and his pursuer as possible. Find food for the babe.”
He looked at Dust. “So, we will let her find us.” Vren said, pulling up his hood and adjusting the sling. “If you scent a farm or sheep holding, we will head there. Make her think we’re getting milk for the baby.”
The vore shook herself in agreement.
Vren rose to his feet. “Let’s give her something to hunt.”
Chapter Ten
“Winter?” Orval ducked under the tapestry, pulled the bolt back, and desperately scratched at the passage door, clutching a whimpering babe in the other arm. “Winter, please be there. Please help me,” he begged softly, fear catching in his throat. He scratched again, sweat dripping off his face and under his tunic.
“Orval?” Winter’s muffled voice was followed by the sound of the bolt being thrown back on her side. “Orval, what’s wrong?” Winter’s worried face appeared; her eyes widened as she took him in. He knew he was a mess, tears streaking down his face, his tunic stained.
“Winter, please, Dalan won’t stop crying,” Orval choked on the words, knowing, just knowing he’d done something wrong, something awful. “He cries and cries, and he’s going to wake Amari and she’s exhausted, and but I don’t know what I did or—”
Winter took the child he desperately thrust into her arms. “Hush,” she said. “He seems fine, just miserable.” She stepped into the storeroom and pulled the door closed behind her. “Let’s take him into the kitchen and see what we see.”
Orval nodded, feeling weak and shaky. It would be all right, Winter knew what she was doing. As they walked past the bedroom, Orval glanced in to see poor Amari had fallen back asleep, with Lara in her basket by the bed. Thank the skies they had not woken.
Winter opened the door to the kitchen, and stopped dead, looking around.
Orval sidled around her, shame-faced. “I’ve tried to keep up,” he said, quickly limping forward to clear a place on the table. “But it’s hard. Babies are…” he swallowed the lump in his throat. “Terrifying,” he whispered. He’d failed miserably, not just at taking care of Amari and the babes, but by letting everything fall apart.
Winter put Dalan down on the table and unwrapped the swaddling. Not that it took much effort, since he apparently couldn’t swaddle a baby to save his soul. It was always too loose, too—
“He’s fine,” Winter said, checking the little boy’s nappy. “He’s clean and dry and there’s no rash. Did he nurse?”
“Just a bit ago,” Orval said. “Lara went to sleep but even after I burped him, he fussed, and now he won’t stop crying.”
“Orval, sometimes babies just cry.” Winter stroked Dalan’s tummy. The babe squirmed, his face puckering up. “You burped him?”
“I did,” Orval insisted, heart sinking as Dalan sucked in a breath and wailed like he was dying.
“Well, then,” Winter said. “We’ll see about the other end, then, shall we?” She took one of Dalan’s small, perfect feet in each hand and started to pump his little legs back and forth, crooning to the little one. “Poor, poor lamb.”
Dalan sniffed, his eyes wide as he stared at Winter.
“What are you doing?” Orval looked at her in horror. “He’s sick, he needs—
“No, no,” Winter chuckled, keeping a gentle rhythm, gently churning the chubby legs. “Sometimes, just like with adults, things get sort of plugged—”
Dalan’s eyes got wider, his face screwed up, and—
pop, pop, pop, pop, pop, ppppppop.
“Gas?” Orval gasped, sagging against the table with relief.
“Gas,” Winter confirmed. “And, oh dear,” she said, looking down, “slightly more than gas.”
“There should be a book,” Orval sighed, swaying as exhaustion replaced relief that replaced horror at yet another change. “Something that explains all this. I’ll get a cloth.”
