Rosemary PoV
Anis leaned forward over Saffron's forearm, her boots dangling as her eyes went wide as we stepped onto the escalator. She clutched Pingui with both hands, using the plush bird's bill to point down the moving metal staircase.
"Look, Mama! Movin' floor! Floor has wheels!"
"It's an escalator, sweet pea," I said, stepping up beside them and smoothing down the back of her pink coat. "You hold onto Papa, alright?"
"Holdin'!" Anis declared, promptly burying her face into the crook of Saffron's neck and locking her arms around his collar like a baby koala.
My husband smiled softly and patted our four-year-old's back.
"Pingui says safety first! No fall down the metal waterfall!" Anis mumbled.
"It's not a waterfall, little bird," Saffron replied, his deep rumble vibrating against her chest. "Just grooved steel on a conveyor track."
