[As gently as though she were coaxing a butterfly onto her finger, Aisling smoothed the damp from his cheek. ...And then tweaked his nose. She wriggled out of his grasp and darted away in an excess of good spirits, laughing, dashing for the trees where she could vanish up into the branches. What they both needed was some cheering up. A loosening of tension. Time to let some of that joy loose and let it grow in the open air. Come chase and play with her!]
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