#ask--norge

Cro: I’m the only one with the patience (…or inclination) to fish.

The large stone spire towered before her, casting a dark shadow upon the small figure, a cloak draped over her shoulders. Her grey eyes cautiously scanned the exterior, fearful of the deep magic that lay hidden inside.

She didn't want to do this, but she had no choice. The plague continued to spread like wild fire, consuming nearly half her village. If she couldn't find help here, she didn't know where she would go.

Swallowing her fear, she took hold of the bronze troll, knocking it against the aged wood, a resounding clanging that rattled her to the bone. She hoped that the sorcerer was inside. Even more so, she hoped that he would look fondly upon her.

A toothless smile lit up his pudgy face, his blue eyes crinkled with delight as his nearly limp body bounced up and down on Caitlyn's lap. He reached out, batting playfully at her face, nudging her nose with his tiny hand.

She pressed her lips to his belly, blowing raspberries into his chubby midsection.

The child giggling in mirth, waving his arms around and kicking.

Caitlyn brought him down to her knee, kissing his tiny head and tickling his kicking feet. She kissed his head once, smiling.

The baby's chubby face suddenly screwed up in a frown, choking crying coming from his mouth.

Caitlyn bounced him again. "Aw, don't fuss, honey!" She cooed. She checked briefly to see if he needed yet another diaper change, but that wasn't it. She glanced up at the clock. "Between four and seven. Your scheduled fussy time." She glanced over her shoulder.