𝑡𝘩𝑒 𝘩𝑒𝑎𝑟𝑡 𝑜𝑓 𝑛𝑎𝑟𝑛𝑖𝑎, 𝖾𝖽𝗆𝗎𝗇𝖽 𝗉.

V. on the run

I sat down at the table for a moment. I was late afternoon and I was at the Beaver's, waiting for the Pevensies.

No, not the Pevensies, the four humans. They might not be the Pevensies. But they were coming today.

I twirled around the kitchen, humming a tune. I had been cleaning all day to help out Mrs. Beaver, and I was finally done. I spun, then settled on making some tea. I danced to the tune I whistled. I didn't even what I was whistling.

I grabbed the Earl Grey of the shelf and began boiling some water when I realized what I had been humming and whistling all along.

I had been dancing to Mr. Tumnus's lullaby.

During my trance, I gracefully spilled the hot water all over me.

Maledire la mia goffaggine! Io sono stupido. (Curse my clumsiness! I'm stupid.) I muttered in Italian. 

Why Italian, you might ask? Well, during my time with the Professor, the Macready had (tried) to teach my a plethora of languages, and Italian was the ONLY one I spoke mostly fluently.

Drying the steaming water from my dress and wiping it off the floor, I (remade) the tea and sat down to read. These Narnian books were really very interesting, and I had read nearly all of the Beaver's.

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Then next time I looked up, It was beginning to get dark. Mrs. Beaver was making dinner preparations, and Mr. Beaver was gone.

Out to find the four, presumably.

I hoped.

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Mrs. Beaver put on an apron and started to heat the stove.

Me, I sat alone at the table. It had been over an hour since Mr. Beaver had left, and he said he was only searching just beyond the trees. How long could it take?

The clock on the wall ticked monotonously and suddenly, It was the only sound I could hear. Time seemed to slow.

Tick.

Mrs. Beaver ignited the stove.

Tick. 

Something moved outside.

Tick.

She went outside to check.

Tick.

Muffled voices.

Tick.

The doorknob turned.

Tick.

In came Mrs. Beaver.

Tick.

Then Mr. Beaver...

Tick.

...Peter.

Tick.

Susan.

Tick.

Lucy.

Tick.

Edmund.

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