The Unimaginable

Sam was aware of the eyes on him, both feline and draconian, but after a while when it was clear he wouldn't but hurt if he stayed still, it didn't bother him. It was a connection, almost. The fear that usually surrounded him stayed for the moment stamped down, squashed by grief and a desperate need to plan what he would do next. He was, as far as he was aware, one of the few remaining people Remi had. Vervain was there, of course, but she would be busy. A brand new baby and an infirmary to take over. Sam would be needed here; likely he would have to help Remi care for Aoife, help him work out what his life looked like now. Sam didn't know the first thing about babies or how to work your life around them. But he was going to try, because he loved him. Because he had to. Eventually, Remi shifted back. Sam didn't go to him at first, let him speak to Aoife (Sam couldn't hear the words) and walk to the kitchen. With a deep breath Sam stood and followed him to the doorway, stood there so he could keep an eye on the baby as he spoke. "Remi, you must be exhausted. Let me take care of Aoife for a while, as you nap." He suggested. Samuel The Sun's rim dips; the stars rush out; At one stride comes the dark;