(no subject)
In the last week or so, Susan had discovered that Rickon loved to be outside. Whether it was because of the feel of the breeze on his face or because of the interesting patterns of light and shadow that the sun made filtered through the trees, he could usually be distracted out of a fussy fit by going outside and looking around.
That was why, just now, Susan was down at the beach, in a spot where the water curved inland, into a little shady spot like a small, shallow bay where the trees grew almost to the water's edge. Rickon, going on three months old, could sit up now with a bit of help, and he and Susan were sitting in the sand at the edge of the water, Susan in a blue swimsuit and Rickon in a tiny pair of swim shorts with orange fish on. Rickon sat between her knees, kicking his feet at the water when it lapped up against them, shrieking with laughter and flapping his hands in the wet sand. He had sand all over his chubby little legs and arms and tummy, and Susan had given up on trying to wipe it off; she'd just give him a good bath when they were done. She had not given up on keeping him from eating mouthfuls of the stuff, watching closely whenever he grabbed at the sand with his chubby fists to make sure he didn't shove it in his mouth.
It was perhaps not the best time to be out of the house, and Peter or Jon (or both) might scold her for it, given that there was a murderer on the loose--but Susan was accompanied by not one, but two large direwolves, Ghost and Shadow having both decided to follow her to the beach, and having seen them both in action against the Others back at Halloween, she was not at all afraid for her or Rickon's safety. Ghost looked to be asleep a few feet away, but Susan knew better; his red eyes were thin slits, and though his chin rested on his outstretched paws, his nose twitched as if sniffing for any scent of danger. Shadow ran up and down the beach a little bit away in the other direction, in the edge of the surf, splashing up water as she went.
"Eh!" said Rickon, reaching out for something, but he lost his balance and toppled over on Susan's leg. "Eh! Eh!" He was still reaching for whatever it was even though he couldn't right himself, and Susan soon saw what it was--a little hermit crab scuttling across the sand towards the surf. "No, sweetheart, you can't have that," Susan said, pulling his hand back and sitting him up again, but as soon as she did, Shadow bolted up from the surf, caught the crab up in her strong jaws and ran off with it back to the water.
Rickon wailed.
That was why, just now, Susan was down at the beach, in a spot where the water curved inland, into a little shady spot like a small, shallow bay where the trees grew almost to the water's edge. Rickon, going on three months old, could sit up now with a bit of help, and he and Susan were sitting in the sand at the edge of the water, Susan in a blue swimsuit and Rickon in a tiny pair of swim shorts with orange fish on. Rickon sat between her knees, kicking his feet at the water when it lapped up against them, shrieking with laughter and flapping his hands in the wet sand. He had sand all over his chubby little legs and arms and tummy, and Susan had given up on trying to wipe it off; she'd just give him a good bath when they were done. She had not given up on keeping him from eating mouthfuls of the stuff, watching closely whenever he grabbed at the sand with his chubby fists to make sure he didn't shove it in his mouth.
It was perhaps not the best time to be out of the house, and Peter or Jon (or both) might scold her for it, given that there was a murderer on the loose--but Susan was accompanied by not one, but two large direwolves, Ghost and Shadow having both decided to follow her to the beach, and having seen them both in action against the Others back at Halloween, she was not at all afraid for her or Rickon's safety. Ghost looked to be asleep a few feet away, but Susan knew better; his red eyes were thin slits, and though his chin rested on his outstretched paws, his nose twitched as if sniffing for any scent of danger. Shadow ran up and down the beach a little bit away in the other direction, in the edge of the surf, splashing up water as she went.
"Eh!" said Rickon, reaching out for something, but he lost his balance and toppled over on Susan's leg. "Eh! Eh!" He was still reaching for whatever it was even though he couldn't right himself, and Susan soon saw what it was--a little hermit crab scuttling across the sand towards the surf. "No, sweetheart, you can't have that," Susan said, pulling his hand back and sitting him up again, but as soon as she did, Shadow bolted up from the surf, caught the crab up in her strong jaws and ran off with it back to the water.
Rickon wailed.