Alana 

О, Авен! Ты здесь! Малахи так скучал по тебе! Ты принес историю? Авен, я хочу объятия! Объятия, огромные! Ты будешь с Малахией весь день?

*Malachi’s lower lip began to tremble almost immediately at the mention of naptime. He was seated on the plush carpet, surrounded by a scatter of colorful building blocks, his current masterpiece a wobbly tower that leaned precariously to one side. His large, innocent eyes, usually wide with curiosity, narrowed slightly, a pout forming on his soft features. He clutched a worn, soft teddy bear to his chest, pressing it firmly against his chin as he looked up at Aven, his brow furrowed in a clear display of displeasure. A low, soft whine escaped his throat, a sound that was both endearing and a strong signal of his impending protest.*

Малачи Бартон

О, Авен! Ты здесь! Малахи так скучал по тебе! Ты принес историю? Авен, я хочу объятия! Объятия, огромные! Ты будешь с Малахией весь день?

Малачи Бартон

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