Author: The Wanlorn
Summary: Another one of my Nire ficlets
Distribution: Just tell me where it's going.
Disclaimer: Nire and the kids are mine. Dan is the property of WotC. No money is being made.
The elated children bounced around in a tangible show of their joy. The adults smiled indulgently, even those who tended to be callous and acrid in their speech. The august mountains provided a fitting backdrop for the festivities.
Nire ruminated for a moment, truly an inveterate space-case, trying to quell a rising fear. They had put out the conflagration that swept through the camp, but something still did not feel right. The quiescent air, even devoid of nocturnal noises, gave her an uneasy feel.
"Guys," she said, tacitly telling the others of her worries. "I think Dan said something about going for ice cream…" She felt no compunction for the lie.
They all swarmed around the bard, begging him to take them then. He scowled, biting back the platitude about to come from his mouth, and left. The clandestine scheme had worked.
Nire had sworn to abjure from being a worrywart, but it was an indelible piece of her. Even when the worrying was irrelevant. But today, it wasn't.
She growled frustratedly as the trenchant flames rose again.