(no subject)
The nights have been getting longer of late. This means, of course, that baby Reynald is getting into something that resembles a consistent sleep schedule, allowing his parents more than a few scant and scattered hours of rest each night.
Despite this development, the days seem longer as well, and filled with as much waiting as activity. At this particular moment, however, 'waiting' could be considered 'resting' instead. Having finished his patrol with Jon earlier in the afternoon, and with no immediately pressing obligation, Robb has removed his infant son to a shady spot on the stream where he can catch fish and Reynald can indulge in his new favourite pasttime: looking at things and laughing.
Everything makes him laugh these days. The world for Reynald Jon Stark is a brilliant and beautiful place, full of wonder and endless amusement. Everything exists to make him smile, and for the most part it succeeds. Robb, whose experience with his siblings and his nephew and neice had led him to believe children were inevitably loud and grumpy, has found this a pleasant surprise. At present, the babe is curled in the curve of Grey Wind's tail, burbling happily at the brilliant shiny scales of the fish in his father's basket, undoubtedly brimming with pride at the accomplishment.
[Aww, it's their first father-son fishing trip! Open to new or old, ST/LT all that stuff fine.]
Despite this development, the days seem longer as well, and filled with as much waiting as activity. At this particular moment, however, 'waiting' could be considered 'resting' instead. Having finished his patrol with Jon earlier in the afternoon, and with no immediately pressing obligation, Robb has removed his infant son to a shady spot on the stream where he can catch fish and Reynald can indulge in his new favourite pasttime: looking at things and laughing.
Everything makes him laugh these days. The world for Reynald Jon Stark is a brilliant and beautiful place, full of wonder and endless amusement. Everything exists to make him smile, and for the most part it succeeds. Robb, whose experience with his siblings and his nephew and neice had led him to believe children were inevitably loud and grumpy, has found this a pleasant surprise. At present, the babe is curled in the curve of Grey Wind's tail, burbling happily at the brilliant shiny scales of the fish in his father's basket, undoubtedly brimming with pride at the accomplishment.
[Aww, it's their first father-son fishing trip! Open to new or old, ST/LT all that stuff fine.]