Scarburg Meadhall

[Firefoot]

Léof was amazed by how calm the boy was being, trying to show him what had happened. Léof couldn’t tell if the boy’s lack of words was because the boy was too young to talk much or if it was because he was in distress – he hadn’t spent that much time around small children. Even so, he found himself anxiously looking around for someone who actually knew about children to come and take the boy off his hands. He had reacted instinctively, but didn’t know what to do next.

“Why?” whimpered the boy.

“Well,” said Léof, hoping that talking would keep the boy from beginning to bawl, “fire makes the things it burns very hot, and when you touch hot things they burn you.” He didn’t know if the boy would understand this explanation or not, but fortunately just then someone ran up with a water pail.

“Thanks,” he said, paying no attention to who it was. He touched the water to make sure it wasn’t freezing. “Now,” he said to the boy, “you need to put your hand in the cold water, alright?”