Disclaimer: The dust may be mine but the memories certainly aren't.

Note: Set many years after the events of "Chosen".


He is carving.

He is a giant, a bear, gruff and huge. But beneath his fingers formless blocks of wood take shape, transform into warriors and monsters and winged horses for him to tell her stories with. She considers stories the only good thing about being six, and curled in his dusty lap she watches her grandfather's words come to life.

Her favourite carving is the woman with the direct gaze and the half smile, the figure he cradles sometimes, a sad proud look in his good eye.

But that's a story he says he'll tell her once she's older.