andhiswife | (Reply)

"Hello, Jordan!" Greta scoops her up off the ground into a hug. It's become something of a customary gesture over the past few months, though in the wake of all that Hatchimal nastiness, it's especially nice to have the girl safe in her arms for a few moments. She settles the girl onto her hip long enough to ask, "And how are you?" and receive a breathless, delighted, "Good!" in response, then sets her back down on the sand.

This is the first time Greta's mediated any kind of interaction between Saoirse and a child who wasn't also living at the Gardens, and she's wary of playing favorites (or seeming to). So she smoothes her palm over Saoirse's hair reassuringly -- she hasn't been forgotten -- as she addresses Sam. "Oh, not at all. We've only just arrived, ourselves." Having a little extra time to get situated is no bad thing, and they definitely haven't been waiting long enough to get bored.

"Jordan, this is Saoirse," Greta says, patting the older girl's head in gentle emphasis. "And Saoirse, this is Jordan and Sam. And Marvin," she adds with a nod towards the little dog.

She's already told them that Saoirse can't speak, though she hasn't yet specified why. It had seemed prudent to give Jordan time to get used to the idea rather than spring it on her, if only to prevent a stream of curious but potentially tactless questions. Saoirse probably won't object to them finding out what she is, but it's only fair to let her meet Sam and Jordan, first, before pressing her for permission to tell them.

Cu's risen to his feet, stub of a tail wagging wildly, though he seems to be awaiting some sort of cue before he actually bounds forward to start investigating the new parties. "This big fellow is Cu."