The celebration that night was not planned.
It happened the way such things always happened with Alex's family—organically, chaotically, with no one quite sure who had started it but everyone somehow involved. The wolves contributed meat from the morning's hunt. Granite produced honey he'd been hoarding for reasons he refused to explain. Sally found berries she insisted were safe to eat and had to be physically restrained from testing them on herself.
The snakelings, who had been beside themselves with worry for two days, expressed their relief by climbing every adult in sight and refusing to come down.
"You were GONE," Siddy announced from his perch on Lucas's head—a position he'd claimed within minutes of their return and showed no signs of relinquishing. "For AGES. We counted."
"How long?" Lucas asked, with the particular patience of someone who had recently learned that engaging with snakelings was the only way to survive their attention.
