"Irving, Irving!" The girl laughed, calling out to the Lightning Familiar. "Irving, come sit by me—quick!"
Her laughter was the summer rain and the birdsong too, and every time Irving heard it, no matter the weather, the sun brightened. It was as if her sound lifted a veil from his eyes and allowed him to see the world more clearly.
It's funny how laughter can do that, those honest rumblings of the soul.
Her laughter is always a kind laughter. It is as song to a bird and comes in happy moments. It is the sound of her soul, something that comes when the smile of her eyes overflows into the air.
So when any person hears her giggles, sees her soft expressions of joy, they are as much a gift for the person who watches her—probably a growing bond that might soon bloom in friendship once they talked.
"Oh, Irving… why do you keep standing there?" the woman playfully rolled her eyes at him, Ivring, smiling at her. "Come on! Enjoy the meadow with me!"