Lyra listens as she finishes with the fire, content with the heat and ready to get to the baking. She gathers ingredients as Noe chops and talks, beginning to mix the wet and dry ingredients in their bowls before adding the dry in slowly to make a batter. She’s glad to hear that Noe is doing well, and proud of her efforts to build a business from scratch. It is something to aspire to, certainly, and from one so young, it’s impressive.
”I’m glad to hear that things are going well,” she says as she whisks the batter, accidentally flicking some out of the bowl and spattering their workspace. ”Oops,” she laughs. ”If I had any younglings, they’d be clamoring to lick it off the table.” It has been a while since she’s cared for any younger children. Lately she’s been known to take in the older, less likely to be adopted children from the orphanage.
”I’m glad to hear that things are going well,” she says as she whisks the batter, accidentally flicking some out of the bowl and spattering their workspace. ”Oops,” she laughs. ”If I had any younglings, they’d be clamoring to lick it off the table.” It has been a while since she’s cared for any younger children. Lately she’s been known to take in the older, less likely to be adopted children from the orphanage.
Lyra Abrams
