Chris glanced up at the question, his eyes passing briefly over Mike's before settling on Hobbes's as he swiped the tip of the wet cloth gently across Eostre's bottom lip.

"Yeah, he's okay," he said, his voice still quiet before he looked down at Eostre again, watching her lips carefully, tension still deep in his belly. "He's in the kitchen right now eating if you want me to get him."