I am Ren Drakemore, age 8, the 2nd Prince of the Kingdom of Arcadia, and I am building my power and influence so that one day I may become King of this land.

  “Faber, I would like you to meet Prince Ren,” Lord Griswald says, addressing a tall man with short grey hair and a matching beard, trimmed neatly to the sharp lines of his square jaw.

  I nod in greeting with a friendly smile. In response, Faber places his fist over his opposite shoulder and gives a deep bow—a formal gesture of respect, traditionally used by commoners when addressing royalty.

  Though I know it’s customary, I’m a bit taken aback. I’m not used to being on the receiving end of it. I don’t interact with many commoners, at least not as Prince Ren. The other versions of me—the ones who move freely in the world—don’t inspire such formality. No one bows to Shadow or a cloaked boy wandering the alleys. No one knows they’re me.

  “It’s a pleasure to finally meet you, young master,” Faber says. His voice is low and gravelly, and there’s a slight stiffness to the way he moves—muscle-bound but weathered. His dark, rough skin speaks of a life spent working long hours under the sun, a life carved by hard labor.

  “The pleasure is mine, sir. Lord Griswald tells me you’re the only builder he trusts to manage the major projects in his domain,” I reply, glancing toward the massive piles of stone blocks and timber stacked across the scorched land above the kobold cave.

  It’s been four days since Jade met with Lord Griswald and finalized their agreement—which included the construction of a fortress to guard the entrance to Tiamat’s sanctuary. Since then, Griswald’s workers have hauled in tons of stone, timber, and steel fittings to the construction site. He also tasked Faber with assembling a large crew of builders, and today marks the official start of the project.

  Lord Griswald brought Lady Willow, Jade, and me to join him and Diana in overseeing this important milestone. He claimed Jade’s presence was necessary—so that Tiamat could witness firsthand that he was moving quickly to fulfill his end of the bargain.

  “M’lord is too kind,” Faber replies, a touch of pride creeping into his voice as he puffs out his chest slightly and straightens his posture. “But yes, I’ve had the honor of building many things for my lord’s domain.”

  “I’d like to show our guest what we’re planning,” Griswald says, gesturing with his thumb over his shoulder toward the kobold in the flowery sunhat. She’s currently distracted, watching the flurry of activity as workers unload equipment and tools from nearby wagons.

  What was once an empty valley has become a hive of organized chaos. A team of mages is raising the frame of what appears to be a warehouse or workshop. Others use magic to clear brush, while several more carve a wide trench into the earth with precision spells, tracing a sweeping arc around the path that leads down to the cave.

  “Of course. Right this way, m’lord,” Faber replies, waving us toward a large canvas tent pitched at the center of the work site. It stands amid towering stacks of stone blocks, timber, and steel. It appears to be some kind of command post for the operation.

  Willow, Griswald, Diana, and I begin to follow, but after only a few steps, I glance back and notice Jade hasn’t moved. She remains where she was, her mismatched eyes both wide with wonder as she, and her dragon matron, take in the whirlwind of magic and construction unfolding around her—utterly captivated by the sight.

  “Come along, Jade,” I call, holding out a hand.

  My voice pulls her attention back to us, and she hurries over, taking my hand and slipping into step beside me as we enter the tent.

  Inside, the others have already gathered around a large central table covered in sheets of parchment, each lined with detailed architectural drawings. Jade and I step into the open space left for us, and I scan the top sheet—an overhead blueprint of the finished fortress. A tall, sturdy keep sits behind wide walls dotted with numerous guard towers. Inside, smaller buildings are arranged like a miniature town clustered around the central stronghold.

  “Ehm,” comes a soft noise beside me.

  I glance down to see Jade on her tiptoes, snout barely poking over the edge of the table. Even fully stretched, she can’t quite see the plans.

  “Can we get her a chair?” Griswald asks, the corners of his mouth twitching with amusement as he hears Jade’s quiet plea.

  Diana swoops in, grabbing a wooden stool from one of the workbenches lining the tent wall and setting it beside Jade. With a touch of hesitation, Jade climbs on top, her movements nimble despite her visible embarrassment—now standing just a little taller than me.

  “Impressive,” comes a deep, monstrous growl from Jade’s throat.

  Everyone present has grown used to the occasional interjections from Tiamat—everyone except Faber, who startles slightly and glances around in confusion before his gaze settles on Jade. Her fiery red eye glides over the blueprint with sharp focus, moving independently from her calm green one.

  “I’m glad you like it. In fact, I wanted to get your opinion on the designs for the keep,” Griswald says.

  At his cue, Faber flips through the stack of blueprints on the table and pulls out a detailed schematic showing the keep and its four floors in far greater detail.

  “The keep will serve as the residence for fifty guardsmen and ten servants,” Diana explains, pointing to various sections of the design. “Additionally, it will include special living quarters for two individuals of importance: the appointed lord tasked with administering the fortress… and you, as the Ember Scale tribe’s ambassador.”

  She gestures to two large suites located on the fourth floor.

  “There’s going to be a room just for me?” Jade asks, eyes wide with surprise as she leans over the table for a better look. She traces the section of the blueprint with a claw, quietly mouthing the labels to herself.

  “Instead of a bed, I’d prefer an alcove with some leather mats to lie on,” she says, glancing back at Diana. “We kobolds feel more comfortable sleeping in tighter, cozier spaces.”

  “Hah, yes. I remember,” Diana replies with a small smile, already making a few adjustments on the parchment in neat, elegant handwriting.

  “Will there be a bath?” Jade asks, her tone curious but hopeful.

  “There are baths on both the second and fourth floors,” Griswald answers, smirking. “No home is complete without one.”

  Jade grins at that and eagerly returns to studying the blueprint. Ever since her first bath at Griswald’s manor, she’d become a dedicated fan of the practice. The kobolds, it turned out, had never experienced anything so luxurious—or so gratuitous with water—as a proper bathhouse.

  “It’s perfect,” Jade says in a tone of awed amazement, inspecting the map so closely that her nose is nearly pressed against it.

  The rest of us pause to watch, expressions ranging from amusement to mild confusion, as she climbs onto all fours atop the table, completely shameless, running her claws gently over the parchment like it’s some ancient and priceless relic.

  “Ehm.” I clear my throat pointedly.

  Jade looks up—and freezes, realizing every eye in the room is now fixed on her.

  “Oh. Pardon me,” she mutters sheepishly, carefully backing off the map and shifting upright onto her stool again. Her expression is a mix of embarrassment and stubborn pride.

  “It’s a really good drawing,” she adds defensively, crossing her arms as if daring anyone to disagree.

  I smile, letting her recover her dignity before steering us back on track.

  “Can you tell me everything that’s going into this project?” I ask, flipping through the pile of blueprints in front of me.

  Faber pulls a detailed site map from the stack and spreads it out across the center of the table. “As you likely noticed on your way in, the first step was constructing a new road from the main highway to the build site.”

  Not only had they started it—we saw the road crew well underway. They were nearly halfway to the cavern already. Two mages were clearing the path, laying down leveling sand, and carving drainage ditches, while their non-magical counterparts followed behind, carefully fitting cobblestones into place by hand.

  “Next, we’re building a wall with walkable ramparts, forming a one-kilometer arc around the entrance to the path leading down to the cave,” Faber continues, tracing the perimeter line on the map with a calloused finger. “This wall will span the canyon, anchored into the rock on either side of the entrance. It’ll extend all the way to the canyon floor, with a channel at the base to allow the stream to continue flowing—though it’ll be secured with a reinforced metal grate.”

  “Couldn’t someone just teleport past the wall? Or fly over it? Or dig under it?” I ask. A wall might stop the average intruder, sure—but in a kingdom full of mages, it feels like there are too many ways around a physical barrier.

  “It’s not just a wall,” Faber says with a chuckle.

  “There will be seventeen guard towers along each side of the canyon,” he explains, pointing to the small squares marked at regular intervals. “They’ll be spaced three hundred and fifty meters apart, with overlapping lines of sight.”

  “And we’re having mages place detection wards, anti-teleportation seals, and anti-flight enchantments every fifty meters along the wall,” Griswald adds with a satisfied nod. “Anyone trying to bypass it with magic will set off multiple alarms.”

  “Anti-teleportation seals?” I look up, eyes lighting up with excitement. I’ve read a lot about using runes to construct seals and wards, but I’ve never had the chance to actually make one myself. “Could I watch when those are being applied?”

  “I could have my men show you how it’s done,” Faber replies with a smile. “Placing that many wards takes a lot of mana. I’m sure they’d appreciate the help.”

  “The master says you’re rather clever—I’m sure you can handle it,” he adds with a nod toward Griswald, who nods in agreement.

  Clever is a massive understatement.

  “Could they also show me what spells they use for construction?” I ask eagerly, already imagining the possibilities. This could be a chance to learn new spells—or new applications for ones I already know. I’ve built small things using magic before, but nothing close to the scale of a real structure. I don’t know much about structural engineering, and this might be the perfect opportunity to start learning.

  “I’d like to help too!” Jade chimes in, her enthusiasm mirroring mine.

  Jade and I are different in many ways, but when it comes to the joy of learning magic, we’re kindred spirits.

  “Once we’re through here, I’d be glad to give you both a crash course—and have my mages show you how it’s done,” Faber says, clearly pleased by our interest.

  “Thank you!”

  “These other buildings outside the keep include additional lodging, a stable, and a blacksmith’s workshop,” Faber explains, gesturing across the map.

  “That still leaves a lot of unused land inside the wall perimeter,” I observe, eyeing the empty space marked on the map. “Could we develop that land to cultivate herbs—for brewing healing potions and other alchemical products?”

  At my suggestion, Griswald, Diana, and Faber all glance down at the map thoughtfully. Griswald strokes his chin, then shrugs. “Might as well build an alchemist’s lab while we’re at it.”

  “That would certainly maximize the return on our investment in this project,” Diana agrees with a nod. She pulls out her notebook and begins scribbling down notes, her expression already shifting into planning mode.

  A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

  “That would be simple enough to arrange,” Faber adds, clearly unfazed by the sudden expansion of the project’s scope.

  The truth is, the herbs we use to brew our potions have become increasingly scarce—mostly due to overharvesting by adventurers. Cultivating them here could be both sustainable and profitable. It might prove a smart investment for both Griswald and me if we turned this unused land into a source of rare ingredients.

  Coincidentally, according to Griswald’s merchant retainer, Lord Rodric, high-grade healing potions like mine are extremely rare in Hyperion, the kingdom to the north. If I manage to secure a trade agreement there, I’ll need a reliable and steady supply of herbs to meet the demand. This land could become the key to making that happen.

  “Whom do you plan to entrust with overseeing this land?” Willow asks, turning to Griswald and snapping me out of my thoughts. Her question echoes one I’ve been wondering myself—what noble does he intend to place in charge of this valuable territory?

  “You’ll need someone both you and Tiamat trust completely,” Willow adds, her voice cool and deliberate, tilting her head slightly in my direction. It’s not exactly subtle. She clearly means me.

  And for a moment, my heart lifts with excitement. The thought of having a home—my home—is incredible. Not just a residence, but a portion of a domain to lead, manage, and protect. Something of my own.

  Griswald’s expression softens, but he sighs. “I would need someone who is of age,” he says regretfully, glancing between Willow and me.

  “What about Jade?” I say evenly, working hard to keep my tone and expression neutral to mask the disappointment creeping in.

  Sure, it would’ve been a dream come true to be named the lord of this castle. But, like most dreams, it’s not realistic. I understand why Griswald can’t place a nine-year-old boy in charge of part of his lands. And besides, this castle is much smaller than the one I’m aiming for.

  The King’s castle is still my true goal.

  “Who would be more invested in managing this fortress than the one it’s meant to protect?” I continue, with more confidence now. “Appointing Jade would be the same as appointing Tiamat.”

  “That might work…” Griswald mutters, placing his hands on his hips as he considers the idea. “She’d have my retainers assisting her, of course.”

  “Where is Jade?” Diana asks suddenly, glancing around.

  All of us turn our heads instinctively toward the stool where she had been standing—only to find it empty.

  Before anyone can call out or start searching, the answer comes in the form of a loud crash followed by a violent clatter of metal that shakes the entire tent. Everyone but Willow flinches and ducks reflexively.

  As I raise my head, blinking in surprise, I see Jade standing a few paces away, looking both startled and guilty beside a mangled piece of machinery. A large circular blade—likely part of a device meant for precision timber cutting—lies twisted on the ground in a heap of bent metal.

  I have no idea how she managed it, but the cause is obvious. Jade must have gotten curious and started poking around the strange equipment on the workbench behind her. Somehow, she has caused it to topple off the table.

  “Ruddy hell,” Faber mutters, quickly rounding the table and dropping to one knee beside the ruined device. The blade is severely warped, and the frame cracked in several places.

  “How did you manage—You’ve destroyed it…”

  “Sorry... I just wanted to see how it worked,” Jade stammers, somehow shrinking even smaller under the weight of every eye in the room.

  “Faber, perhaps you should take the prince and Jade to help your builders, as they asked earlier,” Griswald says, kneeling beside the damaged cutting machine. Diana joins him, both of them inspecting the ruined device.

  “Diana and I will see if we can… fix this.” The way Griswald delivers those last two words lacks any real conviction. As talented a mage as I suspect he is, I doubt intricate crafting magic is one of his specialties.

  “Would you like my help?” I offer, guilt creeping into my voice. Even as I say it, I know I probably wouldn’t be much use—I have no idea how the machine was constructed or how it was supposed to work.

  “No, you two go have fun. We’ll figure this out,” Griswald says, though it’s the least convincing tone I’ve ever heard from him.

  Still, there’s no point in arguing. They don’t need our help here, and truthfully, I’m eager to learn from the mages who specialize in magical construction.

  “Thank you, sir,” I say, turning to leave the tent.

  “Thank you. Sorry, sir,” Jade adds quickly, trailing behind me.

  As the three of us step out into the sunlight, I hear Willow’s voice behind us: “Would you like my help with that?”

  I pause for a moment outside the tent, fighting the urge to warn Willow not to give in to her worst instincts. But then I remember what she told Gavin—that she would never harm my allies. I choose to believe her. I choose to trust her.

  “I’m really sorry, Mr. Faber,” Jade squeaks.

  “It’s… it’s alright, Lady Jade. Mistakes happen,” Faber replies, his voice calm now, though he still sounds like he’s trying to convince himself.

  “Try not to embarrass me and your entire tribe any further,” comes Tiamat’s voice, low and sharp from Jade’s mouth.

  Jade flinches. “Yes, my queen,” she replies meekly in her own voice.

  Faber watches the exchange with a mix of apprehension and uncertainty, glancing at me as if searching for some kind of cue—anything to help him make sense of the kobold seemingly talking to herself.

  “She’s fine, sir. Lead the way,” I say, giving him a reassuring nod.

  Faber leads us out across the field of blackened soil that surrounds the cavern, where construction is slowly transforming the scarred land into something purposeful. He brings us to two men dressed in earthen-toned clothing, made from thick, durable fabric—practical and rugged, clearly tailored for work, not status. Unlike most noble-born mages, these two carry themselves like craftsmen.

  One is older, with speckled grey hair and steady brown eyes. The other is younger, with blonde hair tied back in a short rat’s tail and pale blue eyes—much lighter than Willow’s. Both wear leather bandoliers across their chests, lined with mana crystals. Some of the crystals are dim and spent, but the majority still emit a faint, soft-blue glow.

  “This is Master Mage Zeal and his apprentice, Kepler,” Faber says, gesturing first to the older man, then the younger. “And may I introduce you to Prince Ren Drakemore and Lady Jade.”

  “A pleasure to meet you, Prince Ren,” Zeal says as both men offer a respectful bow. Kepler, however, drops to one knee and turns his attention to Jade, studying her with undisguised curiosity. She instinctively steps back, clearly unsettled by the scrutiny.

  “I’ve never seen a kobold before,” Kepler murmurs more to himself than to anyone else. “Do they usually wear sun hats?”

  “Stand up, boy—you’re making her uncomfortable,” Zeal snaps, giving Kepler a sharp prod with the butt of his staff.

  Kepler jolts to his feet, shooting a quick, indignant look at his master. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to—”

  “The prince and lady would like you to show them what you do,” Faber interjects smoothly, cutting him off, “and let them try their hand at it.”

  “We’d be honored to,” Zeal replies without hesitation.

  Over the next few hours, Zeal walks us through the spells they use for construction—how they clear brush, level and compact the soil, cut stone to precise shapes, and fuse pieces together seamlessly. Many of the spells are ones I’m already familiar with, but seeing them applied on this scale, and in such practical combinations, opens my eyes to their full potential.

  Jade, on the other hand, is new to many of these spells, and she’s clearly thrilled by the chance to learn them. With Zeal and Kepler lending us mana crystals from their bandoliers, we’re able to practice far more than usual, no longer limited by our own mana reserves.

  However, what I found even more fascinating than the spells was what they taught us about how to construct a building—how to make a structure that’s not only functional, but safe and lasting.

  Zeal explained that different building materials expand and contract at different rates in response to heat and cold. If incompatible materials are used together—like soft limestone paired with dense granite—the resulting tension will eventually crack the structure apart. Magic could help, but it couldn’t fix bad design. The lesson was clear: spells may shape stone, but understanding keeps it standing.

  After four hours of work—though it felt more like fun—the four of us finally head back to the tent, where dinner is being served from large trays laid out on long tables just outside. A crowd of laborers mills about the area, some chatting as they wait in line, others seated on crates and benches around the camp, enjoying what looks like bread and barbecued meat.

  Jade and I join the line, and I take the liberty of filling two plates—one for myself, one for her. The food smells decent enough, though the fish and bread both look like they’ve been sitting out for a while. We must’ve arrived late.

  I hand Jade her plate, and she immediately groans.

  “Burned fish again,” she mutters under her breath.

  “You really shouldn’t be so picky,” I reply absently, scanning the area for a place to sit.

  That’s when I spot her.

  A short distance away, a large ember scaled creature has its head buried in a metal serving tray—one that appears to have been stolen straight off the table. My eyes widen as I recognize the young dragon.

  I start moving in her direction, eager to speak with her.

  “Princess!” Jade exclaims beside me, having noticed her as well.

  “Damn, here comes the buzzkill,” groans the juvenile dragon as she spots us approaching. She rolls her eyes dramatically, then shoves her head back into the pilfered serving tray, quickly polishing off the remaining fish.

  “What are you doing here, Ember?” Tiamat growls through Jade’s voice—voicing the very question I was about to ask.

  “I smelled these humans making real food,” Ember says through a mouthful, tearing through her last bite and then swatting the empty tray away. It cartwheels through the air and crashes into a pile of stone with a metallic clang.

  “They actually cook their meat—unlike you savages,” she adds, glaring at Jade, who recoils under the weight of her gaze.

  “Mind if I join you?” I ask casually.

  “Sit wherever you want, kid,” Ember mutters, clearly irritated. “But now that nark over there has seen me, my dear old mom’s gonna make me go back. Was fun while it lasted.”

  “Ember, you will return to the cave now. It’s not safe out there!” Tiamat’s voice roars through Jade, loud enough to turn heads.

  The workers around us had already been casting concerned and curious glances at Ember before we arrived, but the sudden eruption of Tiamat’s furious voice draws even more attention. Now, nearly everyone nearby is staring.

  “What’s a 'nark'?” I ask as I sit down cross-legged beside Ember.

  “What’s with that stupid hat, anyway, nark?” Ember retorts, ignoring her mother’s booming voice.

  “It’s for the sun. It’s too bright out,” Jade mutters. Tiamat echoes her frustration through her again: “Go home, now!”

  “Why don’t you just wear Oakleys?” Ember asks, like she’s pointing out something painfully obvious.

  Jade and I exchange confused glances. “What are Oakleys?”

  “Arrggh, I keep forgetting you’re all medieval neanderthals,” Ember groans, rolling her eyes again. “Oakleys are bits of glass—tinted black—to protect your eyes from the sun. You wear them. On your face.”

  As she speaks, she sits back on her haunches and mimics the motion with her front claws, pantomiming slipping on invisible glasses with exaggerated flair.

  “Glass that protects your eyes from the sun?” I ask. “Why not just call them... sunglasses? Why ‘Oakleys’?”

  “Because that’s just what they’re called,” Ember snaps, throwing up her claws in exasperation and rolling her eyes like it physically pains her to explain.

  “Don’t make me come out there and drag you back!” Tiamat’s voice crackles again through Jade, now thick with rising frustration.

  “She sounds pretty angry,” I remark, watching as an exhausted Jade slumps down beside me. Her green eye is half-lidded and weary, but her red eye is wide and burning with fury, locked on Ember.

  “Pfft, that agoraphobic old lizard won’t come out here. She’s bluffing,” Ember scoffs, dismissing the threat with a wave of her claw before crossing her forelegs like a defiant child.

  “Oh, Princess—” Jade begins to sigh, but Tiamat cuts her off sharply.

  “Bluffing, you say?” Tiamat’s voice tightens, barely restraining her wrath.

  “You know,” I say, eyeing Ember’s mannerisms, “you don’t really act like a dragon.”

  She tilts her head at me, unimpressed.

  “The way you sit back on your legs, gesture with your claws like arms… You move more like a person.”

  “You know two dragons,” Ember replies flatly. “And one of them is me.”

  “You don’t act like your mother at all,” I add before taking a bite of fish.

  Beside me, Jade stares sadly at her own plate, hesitating to eat as if she expects to be interrupted again at any moment.

  “How similar are you to your father?” Ember counters with a scoff.

  “Not very,” I admit with a shrug, taking another bite.

  “For the last time, daughter—return to the cave.”

  Tiamat’s voice drops low, growling through Jade, but this time the sound seems to come from everywhere at once.

  At first, I think it’s just the force of her anger resonating in my chest—but then I realize it’s the ground itself that’s shaking. A deep tremor rumbles beneath us, vibrating through the soil like a brewing earthquake.

  Around us, the entire camp freezes. Workers glance around nervously, plates of food forgotten, trying to keep their balance as the very earth begins to oscillate beneath their feet.

  Tiamat’s growl is no longer just a sound—it’s a presence, a force that shakes the mountain and churns the air. Through my mana sense, I can feel her power pouring violently through Jade like a flood barely held in check.

  Jade lies flat on her back, wide-eyed and trembling, completely overwhelmed. Her red eye glows with a terrifying brilliance as Tiamat’s magic continues to pulse outward, rattling the world around her.

  “Okay, she sounds serious,” Ember mutters, grimacing as she recoils slightly.

  Without another word, her wings unfurl with a violent snap, sending a gust of wind ripping outward. A flurry of dirt and dust kicks up, showering over Jade, me, and our plates of food.

  Then, just as suddenly, her massive wings beat downward with explosive force, launching her into the air. The blast of wind is so powerful it engulfs us in a choking cloud of dust, and would’ve knocked us over if we weren’t already hugging the ground.

  “Take a chill pill, Mom—I’m coming!” Ember shouts as she soars overhead, her voice trailing behind her as she arcs over the valley and dives straight down into the cavern.

  And just like that, the growling stops.

  The ground falls still. The air calms. The world, moments ago vibrating with fury, settles into an eerie silence.

  I push myself up, brushing dirt from my hair and clothes, blinking grit from my eyes as I look around.

  The construction crews nearby are slowly rising to their feet, glancing around cautiously. No one speaks—they’re all trying to make sense of what just happened, unsure if it's truly over.

  On the ground beside me, Jade lies flat on her back, breathing hard. Her eyes—both red and green—are finally her own again. The intensity of Tiamat’s presence has vanished, leaving Jade drained and trembling in the aftermath of the possession.

  I stand up, still brushing dirt from my clothes. Beside me, Jade sits up and starts picking the dust off her fish with her claws, determined to salvage what’s left of her dinner.

  Looking up, I spot Lord Griswald striding toward us with purposeful urgency.

  “We’re fine,” I say before he can speak, guessing the reason behind his concerned expression.

  “I’m sure you are,” he replies, his tone implying that was never in question. “It’s that dragon I’m more concerned about,” he adds with a note of irritation.

  “What do you mean?” I ask, glancing down at Jade just as she takes a bite of her now dirt-covered barbecued fish.

  Gross.

  Griswald sighs, lowering his voice slightly. “My men just reported they’ve spotted people watching the construction site from a distance.”

  “Why would they be doing that?” I ask, frowning.

  “We’re right on the border between my lands and Lord Cromwell’s,” he explains. “I suspect he’s curious about what we’re building out here.”

  “That doesn’t seem like a big deal,” I say, brushing the last of the dirt from my sleeves.

  “Watching us build isn’t the problem,” Griswald says, eyes narrowing. “The problem is that they’ve just seen that we have at least one juvenile dragon here.”

  I pause, the weight of that statement settling in.

  “…This could be a problem.”

  “Hey, this is actually really good,” Jade chimes in cheerfully, mouth full of dirt-speckled fish.