*Click* *thud* *click* *thud* *Click*
Erik frowned, looking down at Wanda, who clung tightly to his left leg.
"What are you doing, little one?" he asked her quietly, in German, using his story-telling voice.
"Please don’t go, Papa," Wanda said, looking up at him, with her big green eyes, tears starting to fill them…a quirk of genetics, her mother didn’t have them, nor had he. She’d been clingy like this since her mother died the year before, but usually her big sister could distract her, stop her from carrying on like this.