“Where have you been, child?”

“Here, Nessa!”

Nessa, chucking Rae gently under the chin, wiping a stain from the girl’s cheek, shook her head. “Indeed not, silly girl. For I’ve been here picking burrs from this fleece all afternoon, and I’ve not seen you once.” She ran her palm over Rae’s hair, the tangles full of seeds and stray insect wings.

“Across the stream, Nessa. I saw a rabbit run into a burrow: I wanted to see if it might come out again.” Sitting down, Rae took the burr-muddled fleece into her lap.

Nessa clucked her tongue. “Were you in the hills, Rae?”

Rae, pulling a dry seedpod from the fibers, glanced at Nessa and nodded.

“You should not be so far away from the house. What would you do if you saw a bear or a wolf or a herd of boar and you were all alone?”

“I would call for you and Mop!”

“And do you think we are faster than wolves or bears or boar? Do you see me”—Nessa gestured to her soft body—“chasing down a bear to rescue you from its claws? Or do you see Mop—ah, here he comes!—do you see Mop fighting a horde of snarling boar to save you from their tusks?”

Through the open door, Rae could see Mop coming toward the house. He had a lamb in his arms. She stood, bouncing on her toes, waiting for him. “You and Mop would save me,” she announced. She was sure. She felt it in her bones. “I know you would.”

“Save you from what?” asked Mop, coming through the doorway and putting the lamb on the floor. “This one has a sore on its hoof,” he said to Nessa before catching Rae up in his arms.

“Bears. Boar.” Rae laughed. She was tall enough now that her head nearly touched the roof when Mop lifted her.

“I’d fight any beast for you, my daughter.” Mop swung her down to the floor and knelt beside her. “But you still should be careful. For there are bears and boar in the forests and in the hills.…” He paused, and his mouth twisted strangely under his gray whiskers, so Rae put her hand across it. “And wolves,” he continued through her fingers. He pretended to bite. “And you would be a delicious dinner for any of them.”

“Is the bear the king of the forest?” Rae patted Mop’s whiskers. “The one who eats them all?”

“Oh, now.” Mop smiled. “I think if any rule the wild, it’s the insects that hold all our fates in their strange, creeping limbs. All that we eat comes from the soil that they turn and the flowers they stir—and they are the ones who devour us all in the end. But they won’t threaten you now as large creatures do.” His face grew serious. “Do you listen, Rae?”

Rae nodded. “I always make sure I can see you and Ness. I never go where I can’t see you.”