Sunlight filtered through the window.
Gentle and warm.
A gentle breeze carried the scent of flowers from the garden below. Birds sang somewhere in the distance.
Alaric stirred. His consciousness rising slowly from deep sleep that had actually been restful for once.
Then he felt weight on his chest.
Something pressing down. Small but insistent.
His eyes opened.
Anya's face filled his vision, maybe six inches away. Her blue eyes were wide and bright. Her small finger was extended, poking his nose repeatedly.
Poke! Poke! Poke!
"Wake up, big bro Azra! Wake up wake up wake up! Breakfast is ready!"
Alaric groaned.
He shifted slightly under her weight, she was sitting on him, he realized.
"Anya..."
"You gotta wake up! Mama said to get you and breakfast is getting cold and I'm hungry—"
