He was standing by our Elf-friend at the far end of the garden. Absolutely and completely no doubt about it, this was—
“A giant!” gasped Bron.
“Stupid! He’s not as tall as Papa!”
“But his beard!”
“He’s hardly as tall as you!”
There was lots of grown-up talk about metal and gates and things, but there were toys for both of us too, golden toys with keys and wheels that whirred. Bron got an eagle that flew. I got a dragon that puffed and roared. And there was a sun-and-moon-twisting-thing which didn’t make sense until much later when Léof arrived.