He loved the songs, too. A larger dog I’d never seen in my life. Were he to stand on his hind legs, his head would have risen far above my own. His coat was the color of wheat in autumn. But the most amazing thing about him was that, for all of his enormous stature, he was gentler than the evening breeze. They called him Finn the Great. I thought of him as Finn the Oversized Kitten. He watched over the babe each night while he slept. As I drifted off to sleep in my small closet of a room next to the nursery, I could see the hound lying still and protective on the floor at the foot of the boy’s crib. Perhaps I would have a dog of my own one day, I thought as I strummed and sang softly in the early morning before the babe awoke. A dog could watch over Thomas and me while we slept. What an odd family we would be. No parents, just a boy who tends pigs and a girl who tells tales. There were worse families, I was certain. And yet— The voice that interrupted my song was gravelly and rough.
What do You think about The Seven Tales Of Trinket?
