she would RATHER he carried her, but this is fine, too. her little hand grasps the fabric of murphy’s pant leg – she had tried to grab his hand, but found it tucked snugly in his pocket, so she makes do. she is humming tunelessly, the kind of disjointed melody only a child could write, when she sees motion in the distance. something brown and – soft! it looks soft!
“ what’s that? what’s that? “ she asks, jumping up and down as she points to the deer with her free hand.
