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[sir_samuel]

He had things pretty good, Vimes reminded himself. He had a good life here on magical-island-with-a-funny-name. He had a police force, the best he'd ever led. He had the rule of law that held fairness above all else, something he would never have achieved in Ankh-Morpork. He had, as Sergeant Angua had so graciously reminded him, his family. He was

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[iwhinny4dragons]

Errol was following at a lopey scrabble that was, for however painful the gait was to look upon, much less dangerous (for his own well-being) than Lizzy's had ever been. He pretty much kept apace with Young Sam.

Sybil was a bit behind, at a leisurely stroll. If she had to be honest with herself, which she did rather try to be, it was not merely because she wanted to go at such a pace. Spending the bulk of days with Young Sam was a gift, of course, but without any help and with his insistence on continuing to grow, she did find herself a bit worn out, some times.

She beamed at her husband, though, certainly giving none of this away, and gestured a little.

"We climbed by the lagoon today and found some terribly interesting pockets of rock to explore, whether mummy quite thought it an especially wise idea or not." Her tone implied that she wondered where he got that from, and also, simultaneously, that she knew, and that Sam bloody well did, also.

[sir_samuel]

Vimes replied with a look of innocent surprise. No, ma'am, his look said, I would never encourage my son to go poking through rocks when his mother didn't want him to. And it was true, inasmuch as he never encouraged any more than necessary proximity to nature.

On the other hand, Sam Vimes wasn't exactly a model for following authority, motherly or otherwise.

"Aaaaand I found this!" Young Sam declared, holding up his palm to reveal-

A large black beetle.

Vimes peered at it. "...Huh."

Young Sam beamed.

[iwhinny4dragons]

"I'm not so terribly sure Beetle will get along with Moon Rat as famously as either does with Errol, but one can always hope," Sybil said, reaching down to fondly stroke Young Sam's hair as she reached them, before taking up a sit next to her husband.

[sir_samuel]

It occurred to Vimes, in the vague way that these things regularly occurred to him, that Sybil could look like a Duchess whilst sitting on a front stoop. He put out his cigar just in time for Young Sam to clamber into his lap. Miraculously, the beetle stayed intact, but the boy came precariously close to squishing his new friend as he cupped it between his hands.

"If Moon Rat and Errol get on too famously, we're gonna end up with Fried Moon Rat," Vimes said.