Back at Luminera, the evening had begun to cast a warm glow through the large glass windows, bathing the living room in soft golds and fading oranges.
Dera sat quietly on a single-seater sofa, her back sinking slightly into the cushions, arms wrapped loosely around the small boy in her lap. Dexter was seated on her thighs, straddling her, his little legs dangling off both sides while his small head rested against her chest. His weight was slight, but comforting, and she absently ran her fingers through his hair while he mumbled softly, caught somewhere between wakefulness and slumber.
His voice was quiet, slow, and dreamy as he spoke, "…And all the horses shouted at once. We want food…"
A faint smile touched Dera's lips as she looked down at him. His voice was thick with sleep, and she wasn't even sure if he was still consciously telling the story or if he was simply reciting pieces from a dream.
