Father Brennan was playing a dangerous game, splashing her intentionally like that.  Mable tended to escalate such games quickly, but she would hold off for a little bit.  She didn't want to get the man completely soaked - yet.  Instead, she sent a splash just a little bigger than his onto his clothes with a grin.

Her eyes widened just a bit in surprise at the mention of adoption, and Mable instantly had a million questions about the subject, but she restrained herself in that too.

"I'm sorry to hear that, Father Brennan," she said, aghast.  She couldn't imagine being trapped inside all day long.  It sounded horrible.  "What did you do all day, then?  Have you ever climbed a tree, even?  Or held a worm?  Is this -" she cut off suddenly before starting again.  "Is this your first time in a river?"

His answer would be very important now, because if it was, Mable would absolutely be splashing him with all her might like she had done to her brother so many times before.  She was prepared for the consequences too.  It would be worth it.

Aha, so the splashing was intentional. The water sent his way stole a little half-laugh that sounded like more of an amused huff. It was kind of funny… but he was still a priest. Dignified and authoritative, or something like that.

He could certainly be that, and most of the time he was… but not always. That much seemed clear from the way he had to force himself not to splash at her again.

Malachi hummed, unsure of how to respond at first when she offered her sympathies. He glanced out over the water, just to have his attention dragged back to Mable when she asked a truly silly question.

“Of course not,” he was quick to say, but his face? It suddenly looked more than a little unsure, despite his haste in denying such a thing. “I…”

…Was this his first time in a river? Why couldn’t he remember?

He knew how to swim, he knew that much, but had he ever actually stepped foot into a flowing river like this?

“…Maybe.”

Huh. It wasn’t something he’d ever thought about. Malachi’s brows furrowed for a moment, and his free hand lifted to push his hair behind his ear again.

“I suppose I have not done the other things either. At least not that I can remember. I spent most of my time-” practicing, he almost said, but then he’d have to deal with the follow-up question. Working, next, but that would bring similar issues… it wasn’t a lie though. “Working, usually.”

Malachi put his hand back into the water and sent another splash, slightly bigger.

Working?  Working?  Even from an age young that he should have been playing outside and getting dirty and having fun?  Mable was disgusted.  She was quiet up until the moment she was splashed again, shouting cheerfully, but went silent again.  She was steeling herself for a necessary and worthy sacrifice.

"Father Brennan," she said seriously, urging the man to stop, "not knowing how to climb a tree is a very tragic thing, do you understand?  But it's okay, because I would like to offer to be your teacher.  Father Brennan..."

Mable held out her other hand, palm up, and looked into dark brown eyes very sincerely.  And yet, she couldn't help the smallest of smiles.  Hopefully the man couldn't see it in the darkness, and wouldn't suspect anything...

"Do you trust me, Father?"

Had he disappointed her? Perhaps she only wished to spend her time with those who knew well the joys of climbing trees and walking over riverbeds. Malachi’s expression was open, almost curious as he listened to her shift in tone.

Another hand was held out to him. He glanced down at it, then to the one he held already, so small against his own.

If there was anything suspicious about the whole ordeal… that question of hers was at the top. Ever so slightly, Malachi narrowed his eyes and considered it.

‘Yes’ was always the wrong answer.

His other hand lifted to take hers, and he gave a decisive nod.

“Yes, dear,” Malachi admitted against his better judgment. “I trust you.”

Yes, dear, Father Brennan said.

Dear, he called her.  Dear.  Dear.  Dear.  Oh, that did something to her heart.  Or was it her stomach?  Or her eyes?  She couldn't tell - everything felt like it was breaking, or falling, or tearing up.

No time to dwell on that, though.  Father Brennan's hands were so much larger than hers.  Mable has never held hand's so big before.  She squeezed them once.

"Thank you," she said, meaning it more than she thought she would.

Pausing only to take and hold her breath, Mable surged forward until she hit the man's chest, and then kept going.  Her arms wrapped around his waist and she held on tight.  For a moment, she felt weightless and warm.

The feeling ended abruptly as frigid water hit her arms, and then encompassed her body like a blanket.  No matter how many times she would let herself fall into water like this, she would never get used to it.  It was such a shock to her system, and it was horrible, but only for a second.

After two, the sound of the water curling around its new obstacles blended in with her laughter.

Three, and more splashing as he released the poor man below her and sat back as best she could given the circumstances.

Four and five, and her laughter faded as she waited nervously to see the Father's reaction.

All he had was a moment. One fleeting second to watch her take a breath. That was all it took for him to know.

Swift as he was to take a breath of his own, it was knocked out of him but a moment later when Mable charged forward and crashed into him. He felt her arms encircle his waist as they fell, plummeting the few treacherous feet back into the water – and instinctively he threw his arms around her shoulders in turn, holding her close, lest she fall aside and get hurt on the rocks.

How cold it had been when it reached only his knees, and how much colder it was when the water swallowed him whole. It was freezing! Bone-chilling! It felt like a breath of fresh air, fed into his lungs after his old doubtful breaths were knocked free.

Her laughter was muffled, distanced from him by a watery barrier. When Malachi lifted his head out of the water – eyes wide, black hair dripping wet where it clung to his face – he fixed Mable with a shocked look.

Then he laughed.

And he laughed some more, delightedly splashing a small wave at the girl that, due to her close proximity, ended up splashing back at him as much as it did her.

“Is that what I get for telling you to hold onto me?” he teased, “your brother is the one that needs water, I am quite tall enough!”

The relief Mable felt at hearing Father Brennan's laugh was more shocking than the water she had just fallen into.  She barely reacted to the wave sent her way, because what was another wash of cold water when she was already drenched in it.  The same logic should have made it so she wouldn't have splashed the other man back, but Mable wasn't a fan of logic and did so anyways, getting another face full of water for it.

But maybe that was a blessing in disguise.  At least now she had an excuse for her misty eyes if Father Brennan were to notice.

"Never too much of a good thing," she said around a grin, brushing sopping locks of hair over her shoulder.  What a picture the two of them must be.

"This has been your first lesson, alright?  I hope you're taking careful notes, this kind of thing is very important, Father.  Here!"  With no small amount of effort, Mable stood once again, more unbalanced that before without the taller man's guiding hand.  Once she felt stable, she held out a hand again to Father Brennan, urging him to stand with her.

There was a challenging gleam in her eye.  "Show me what you've learned!"

This was quite possibly the most ridiculous thing he had done in years – and Malachi had done a lot of ridiculous things. Splashing around in the river, drenching his vestments, laughing and playing like a child instead of a dignified priest.

It was so refreshing.

Another tiny wave crashed over his face, and he couldn’t tell if he’d sent it or if she had. He shut his eyes against the water, tiny droplets clinging to his lashes while bigger ones were falling from his hair. Never too much of a good thing, huh? That sounded entirely untrue, and he had no desire whatsoever to dispute it.

Malachi pushed himself to sit when Mable stood up, holding an arm out near her in case her balance shifted too far to one side or the other. When it didn’t, he took her hand and straightened up fully, and pushed a hand back through his hair to get it off of his face.

“Worry not,” he met her gaze with a small (but confident) smile. “I am a very fast learner.”

Pausing only to take and hold his breath, Malachi leaned down, threw his arms around the girl’s waist, and lifted her right up. One spin around, and he threw himself backward, crashing once more through the cold surface of the water.

And what a jolt it was! Even after falling into it once, it was still such a shock to his system when the cold leeched through his skin into his bones. At least he had not dropped Mable in the process, still holding her almost protectively in his arms.

“Well-” he released her and lifted his head, spitting out water. “How did I do?”

Mable wasn't sure how she expected Father Brennan to send her into the water, but she definitely hadn't thought he'd pick her up and turn around to do it.  Not that she was opposed - quite the opposite, in fact.  As she was lifted up, she wrapped her arms securely around Father Brennan's neck, being careful not to choke him even as they fell backwards.  She laugh again, all the way down until she hit water, this time submerging completely under it.

Green eyes squeezed shut tightly, end remained so even when she was lifted out of the water by the priest.  She wiped her eyes firmly and readjusted the now also drenched hat on her head, and beamed at Father Brennan.

"That was wonderful," she praised, "I must be an excellent teacher!  You're a natural!  If I didn't know better, I'd think you were raised on a farm like me, Father!"

She splashed him to emphasize her words, receiving most of it back in her face and laughed again.  It was unusual, she suddenly thought.  Not the sound of her laughter, that was as familiar as green grass and blue skies, but the feeling that accompanied it.  Or the lack of feeling, perhaps?

Mable couldn't remember a time before now when she had laughed so loudly and wasn't using the sound of it to cover up fear or dread or sadness.  She wasn't laughing to drown out the crack of thunder, or the crack of fist against face.  She was just laughing because - she was happy.

"Next, we'll dig for worms Father Brennan, but that's a lesson for another day.  Do you have any questions?"

Had there been a slight worry that Mable would not appreciate his methods? Certainly. Even with years of experience being around and taking care of children, not all of them were alike. There had been plenty over the years that preferred to stay farther away and cling to their mothers’ skirts, while others were all too happy to join the group and play with other children without issue – and others still clung to him, grateful to receive the affection and care that they did not get at home.

None of them had ever pulled him into a river in the middle of the night and pushed him into it, of course. So he had been slightly wary.

Mable did not spook, though. No, she wiped her eyes and flashed another one of her bright smiles, and Malachi heard himself laugh as she praised herself in the process. He took the splash to the face without resistance this time, simply closing his eyes to let it wash over him.

It was a good thing Father Richards was not around to see him flailing about in the water like this. That probably wouldn’t have given the best impression of the newest head priest, now would it?

“Ah, I see,” he nodded sagely. “Only one question.”

Conspiratorially, Malachi lifted a finger to his mouth in a gesture for silence. Careful not to move around and disturb the water much more than he already had, he pointed behind Mable and off towards the other side of the river, where the moonlight cut through and revealed a few small, scaly shapes beneath.

He leaned close enough to whisper, “do you see those fish?”