A Man Who Flies From His Fear May Find He Has Only Taken A Shortcut To Meet It by LadySternchen  

Dirt- Ingwion

The frightened howls of his babe make Ingwë’s pulse quicken, and he turns to where Ingwion sits on the ground, to see what it amiss. At first glance, Ingwë can see nothing off, Ingwion is still sitting where Ingwë put him, a safe distance away from the fire, but close enough for it to warm the small boy.

Still, Ingwion is clearly distraught, howling and wailing, his little face contorted.

“What is the matter, little one?” Ingwë asks, picking Ingwion up and holding him to his chest.

His son, however, is inconsolable, shaking his hands frantically, screeching even more as he looks at his palms.

Finally, Ingwë understands, and he has to fight to keep himself from laughing.

“Have you made acquaintances with the dirt on the ground, little one? And you do not like it on your hands?”

In place of an answer, Ingwë is only wailed at, and he swiftly takes Ingwion to the shore to wash his hands.