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Eodwine
Eodwine yawned and stretched. The sun was peeking through the window, just after dawn. He was hungry, but not starving. It was a good feeling. He looked at his wife, still asleep. The worry lines on her forehead had disappeared in the night. That was a good thing. The two little ones were curled in their crib like a pair of puppies, draped over each other. He smiled, and he felt like his heart would burst with how it made him feel to see them all, so peaceful, not starving.
Ah. He'd said it in his head. Not starving. That was the especially good thing. He wanted some grub. He threw on his clothes, went to the kitchens to splash water on his face, and nosed about for some food. He found a loaf of bread and took it in his hand like a haunch of meat, and walked to the door to see what it looked like outside.
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