Garrek wasn’t looking at me, but at the round-bodied beaver sitting its fat little butt in the curve of his upturned palm. Then, he lifted it higher, placing it in the front pocket of the white vest. His jaw ticked as he looked down at his pocket, and he reached in, rearranging, until the beaver’s big, shiny eyes were poking out. “There,” Garrek said. I perked up, thinking he was about to say something else to me, but then just about dissolved into a puddle of goo when I realized he wasn’t talking to me at all. “You’ll be able to see the wedding better like this.”
