K'vk'tun: Hammocks

[crazy-mardi.livejournal.com]

Ramada stared into the cup of brown beverage that was most definitely not coffee, and then looked over at her small friend, wondering how best to delicately phrase that the stuff tasted like crap and wasn't there anything else to drink. 

She could find no euphemism that was guaranteed not to set Mykayla off (truth be told she was a bit grumpy, and Ramada couldn't blame her given the condition she was in), and so instead turned to her small friend and said:

"Do they put sugar in this?"

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[random_xtras]

His answering grin was as wide, but wobbly, and then he was focused on Mykayla again as his son's shoulders slipped free and he held the tiny body in his hands. Isaiah sneezed and scowled, then mumbled and grumbled as he tried to lift his head and look around.

Mykayla smiled, but didn't open her eyes.

[crazy-mardi.livejournal.com]

She chuckled, craning her neck so as to get a good look at Isaiah.

She wanted to know who he looked like.

[random_xtras]

Close black curls. Dark skin. Black eyes that would fade to dark brown. And a definite look of Scrat in his features. But those eyebrows... that was all Mykayla.

He sneezed again, then shivered, little chin quivering.

Scrat gently washed him in the warm water, then frowned slightly and looked at Mykayla. "Don't you want to see him, my soul?"

[crazy-mardi.livejournal.com]

She tried not to squeal in awe, but likewise frowned at Mykayla. "Hey," she whispered. "You alright?"