“He wondered if Adnarel knew about the coming flood and the destruction of almost all life on earth. His arms tightened about Higgaion, with whom he slept much as, when he was a small boy, he had slept with his arms around a small brown plush triceratops. His fingers moved through Higgaion’s shaggy hair, stroked a great fan of an ear. Felt something hard. The scarab beetle. It gave him a feeling of comfort, although he found it difficult to associate the bronze beetle with the great seraph. Well.... Thinking about this could wait till morning. Dennys was the thinker. Sandy the doer. The gentle tip of Higgaion’s trunk stroked the back of Sandy’s neck, and he relaxed into sleep.Adnarel came in the morning, in his seraphic form. Sandy said, “I’ve been thinking.” After all, not only Dennys could think.Adnarel smiled. “Sometimes that is a good idea. Sometimes not.” “Dennys and I are in the middle of the story of Noah and the flood, aren’t we?”Adnarel’s azure eyes regarded him.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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