Mable’s sigh was a clear enough sign he’d disappointed her, but the slowed pace at which she waded through the river was impossible to miss. He set his other hand over the one that held onto his arm, covering it with what warmth still radiated from his skin, which was… not much.

The mention of church earned a glance down at her. He hoped she knew that he would be more than happy to see her whether she visited the actual church or not – but he was not about to turn her (or her brother) away from it either. It was his job to guide people to it, after all.

“Of course,” said Malachi, “you and your brother are always welcome to find me.”

Not to mention he’d probably come and find them any chance he got, just to make sure they were alright. It wasn’t like he had anything else to do with his nights.

“Our main services are on Sundays, but we hold mass every morning. I should be there whether something is going on or not, though,” at least he was supposed to be. “Now why do you say that worms are the best creatures?”