May returns, scurrying at such speed I'd expect to see dust kicked up under her little feet. In her arms, she carries a cloth wrapped bundle. Inside is a container, covered with a wooden lid, with a sturdy band keeping the lid closed.
She skids to a stop beside Celeste and climbs into the seat beside her, smiling triumphantly. "Got it! Got it!"
"You got it." Roland agrees with a gruff laugh.
She's proud enough of herself I could almost question whether she actually had to struggle to get it for some reason.
Celeste beams at her, praising her good work in getting a suitable container for her left over food.
I'd complain that it's on the verge of coddling her, but the fact is that I'm just as guilty of doing that sort of thing to May anyway.
It's hard not to treat her like glass.
