Pippin cracked an eye open at the first sounds of the whimper. He sighed. The boy didn't discriminate between two in the morning and two in the afternoon. And he was usually up before the roosters.
He got out of bed, shivering when the night air met his skin. It was still cold for being April, with patches of snow still on the ground in places. Which made it harder to leave his warm bed. But his son was insistent. Hadn't his sisters warned him babies wanted to be treated like royalty?
He picked up the warm bundle. "Hello, Fari-lad."