"DAD WAKE UP."
The lump under the blanket did not move.
Nina stood at the edge of the bed in her oversized sleep shirt, her golden hair were a disaster and she pressed both her hands flat against the top of her head.
She stared at the lump with a dubious expression of someone watching a building slowly catch fire while the fire department slept.
"Dad I have horns."
The lump shifted. One hand emerged out and waved vaguely in the air, then disappeared back under the blanket.
"Mmf," said the lump. "Go back to sleep."
"I HAVE HORNS ON MY HEAD."
"Horns are good."
"HOW ARE HORNS GOOD—"
"Everything's good when you sleep enough."
Nina's left eye twitched. She stood at the edge of the bed for three more seconds. Then she walked around to the side table, picked up the cloak and held it in front of the single eye visible above the blanket's edge.
"Dad, its nine in the morning, you said you will be up by seven!"
