Wi’ ancient hearts and tails divine!
To Nessie, king o’ the loch so deep,
Who guards his secrets while we sleep.
And tae the sea dragon, bold and grand,
Wi’ storm in breath and fire at hand.
May tides obey and sailors sing,
O’ the watery wonders that legends bring.”
Grinning, Angus bellowed, “Tae Nessie an’ the sea dragon—lang may they live!”
“Tae Nessie an’ the sea dragon—lang may they live!” shouted all the Scottish Wolf pack members before everyone took another long swig.
Brian glanced at Reif and grinned. “Drink up!”
A groan left his mouth at the thought of drinking more of the liquid fire, but Reif wasn’t about to insult their host. After quickly swallowing another third of it, he lowered his mug, brushing the back of his hand across his mouth. He wasn’t sure whether he had gotten used to the strong taste or whether the whiskey had burnt away his taste buds, but it had gone down much easier than the first one had. Glancing at Brian, he said,“Hey, this ain’t half bad. Do you think Angus will give us some to take back for those long cold nights you claim are coming soon?”
Laughing, Angus gave a punch to Reif’s arm. “We’ll hae ye a true Scotsman yet, so we will!” Then, taking a sheath off his belt, he pulled a dirk out of it, handing it to Reif. “An’ this here’ll help. Every warriur’s got tae hae one.”
Speechless, Reif held it in his hand, staring at the long, single-edged knife before tracing the intricate carving of a Scottish wolf that adorned the hilt. Then, raising his gaze, he stared at Angus for a moment before breaking out in a broad smile. “It’s amazing! Thank you.”
Brian leaned over and whispered, “It means ye’re a warriur with honour…one the ancestors would be proud tae name.”
Nodding slowly, Reif wrapped his fingers around the hilt, feeling the weight and testing the balance of the knife, noticing how it fit his hand perfectly. He couldn’t wait until he showed it to his fathers. Inserting the dirk in its sheath, Reif put it on his belt and positioned it over his right hip. Then, grinning at Brian, he said, “All I need now is a kilt.”
“Ay, ye do!” Angus said with a knowing grin.
“Absolument!” Keiran exclaimed, bouncing on his toes. “I know exactly where you can buy one since the last time we were in Edinburgh, Theo found this store that had them…or maybe Q can make you one…”
“Babe, I think it’s getting close to bedtime for the nessies, and Angus hasn’t met them yet,” Logan said, smiling at Kieran.
“But first, we need a wee toast tae them,” Angus said, raising his mug up high, and after everyone had followed him, his deep voice boomed out:
“To the wee ones of the loch, so bonnie and shy,
With glimmers of green and a glint in each eye—
May yer splashes be joyful, yer paddles be strong,
And may the waves carry ye gently along.
From misty morns to twilight's gleam,
May ye swim in peace and dream a dream.
To magic and mystery, to scales and to song—
Here's tae the baby Nessies, may ye live long!”
Tipping his mug up, Angus swallowed the last of its contents before roaring, “Whaur are the wee yins?”
“Right here,” Julius squeaked out while trying to squeeze through the top of the bag. After he managed to extract his body, Kieran helped him out of his coat and sweater. Then, without any warning, he launched himself at Angus, circling his head before landing on top of it.
“Ah…ye must be Julius,” Angus said softly. “Yer a pretty wee lad.”