[Child of the 7th Age]

Cami looked over, half blushing at the meaning of Bird's words but still glaring at her friend for having disturbed the sleeping child who was now squawking loudly.

"We're not rabbits you know!" she retorted, jabbing Bird in the ribs. "Despite what you've heard from the big folk." Then Cami explained how she and Maura had found the little one, and the few things they'd been able to glean by tracing the images in her mind.

Cami finally managed to shoo the youngsters out of the burrow, straighten the place to her satisfaction, and say her thanks to her own sons as well as to Bird and Prim and their other well-wishers. As the group waved goodbye and vanished over the hill, Maura came over, a bit red faced, and slipped his arm around Cami's waist.

Cami whispered back good naturedly, "Now I know why some hobbits keep their wedding plans secret!"

Maura turned to her, smiling, "You're a good sport. I didn't think you'd mind the racket, and Gamba seemed genuinely pleased to help. I purposely told them to come late. What I didn't count on was this little one being here, and pushing everything else even later."

Cami leaned her head back on Maura's shoulder and chuckled. "It's all right. I'll remember this in years to come. It will make a good tale. But now, we have a problem."

Cami nodded towards the squawling two-year old. She tried coaxing the tiny lass to settle down with a cup of milk or a bedtime story, but all her efforts met with stubborn resistence and howls of "NO!" Then she noticed the girl tugging insistently at her earlobe.

"Look, Maura. She's in pain. I wish I had my herbs with me. But let's try something else."

Cami scurried out the door with the youngster toddling behind. She climbed into the hammock that Maura had strung up between two trees earlier in the day. The girl snuggled close to Cami, and, as Maura swung the hammock, the howls lessened and subsided.

Maura bent down to look. The two were fast asleep in each other's arms. How strangely tranquil Cami looked as she lay in the moonlight with her brown curls scattered over the pillow, intermingled with those of the child. Maura tenderly stroked her hair, gazing up at the starry sky and whispering a thanks for the warmth and love he could feel radiating from her quiet form. He noiselessly slipped into the hammock, pulled his wife closer to him, and within a few moments had fallen asleep. All around them, the sounds of the pond still filled the night, with a passel of frogs and a loney neekerbreeker continuing on with their wistful lullabye.

[ March 31, 2003: Message edited by: Child of the 7th Age ]