Re: quicklog: wren, luke, jack
[Down a step, down a step, down a step, and Wren smiled when Gus squealed happily at being hoisted off the couch. Dead or not, she liked it when the kids were happy, and she only locked them up so everyone would be safe. So they wouldn't slip to wherever ghost children went, and so they wouldn't hurt people the way ghost children did.
Down a step, down a step, down a step, and she sat near the bottom of the staircase and let the squirmy one-year-old go and crawl her way to the newcomer. Lia waddled around these days, and she coasted like she owned the coffee table, but crawling was still faster when she really, really wanted something. And right now, she really, really wanted to sit herself on Jack's foot, bumblebee pjs and a yellow bow in her sparse cinnamon curls.]
Bonjour, Jack. [Wren didn't come closer, but she was genuinely glad to see him. She couldn't come right out and tell him that Luke was having trouble, because she'd promised she wouldn't do that, and she doubted Luke had said anything himself. But maybe it would come up, or maybe she could let Jack know she was worried.]
Do you need help lifting boxes? [Evie, Evie, and she was always thinking about Evie. About how to help, and maybe that was a little pushy, but Wren didn't realize. And the thought was interrupted by Cygne, fully grown now and impossible, with a wagging tail. Wren called her back to the stairs, so the dog wouldn't knock Jack over. Finch was well behaved; Cygne was a terror.
Instead of answering Jack's question immediately, Wren glanced over at Luke, waiting to see what he said.]