Dance lays down carefully on the new bed, wrinkling the new sheets. Drin and Emma are looking at him with that suspense on their faces: Will it be all right?
He wriggles a little bit, and stares up at the ceiling. He is in a different spot than he would have been in his old bed; this bed is wider, longer. “Hmm,” he murmurs, staring upward. “It feels…big. Lonely. Such empty place.”
Drin leans on the foot-board, smiling a little, and shakes his head. He can guess what’s coming.
“What?” Emma demands.
Dance smiles slowly at them. “I think it needs more people in it.”
Nobody is surprised when Emma flings herself at him and starts tickling him.