Gosh, what am I thinking, replying three hours later? Maybe at this rate, Ehno will only be dead for like a year, and Harlowe will only be a semi-old man when we're done. :B wc:400
Part of Ehno’s thoughts still seemed to buzz with the surprise of finding his son out here, so far from the Valley—for those were the lands that he always associated his children with. He felt the faint stirrings of shame and embarrassment within him at the thought of his lingering surprise. Was it really such a shocking thing to find that his son had come to visit him at his Crimson Dreams home? Of course his children were always welcome there, but they had hardly taken the opportunity to venture this far out west. This was the convoluted decision he had made for his life, two separate families in two separate homes. It was the only way he had seen to avoid alienating himself from one side or the other, and as much as he claimed he was at peace with this decision, it was moments like these that made him regret it. His boy shouldn’t have to face the risk of getting lost in unknown lands just to go out and see his father.
The tawny-furred boy confided that he and his siblings were getting along fine, much to Ehno’s relief. It wasn’t much of a surprise to find that Harlowe found the absence of his mother strange, considering the situation and how much of a change this presented them. His confession seemed to further remind Ehno of the disheartening state their family had fallen into. “It’s good to hear you’re all doing okay.” He shifted absent-mindedly from one foot to the other, an unintentional reflection of his son’s behavior. “…but if you ever need anything, don’t hesitate to let me know,” he added. It wasn’t likely to be something a growing and independent boy wanted to hear, but Ehno could not deny the fatherly instincts spurring him onward. He may not have been able to be as involved in his children’s lives as wanted, but that didn’t prevent him from doing anything they needed, should they ask.
Ehno’s amber gaze remained silently fixed on his son for a moment before glancing out through the trees in the direction of his home, feeling a sudden need to steer themselves away from what was likely to be a potentially awkward subject. “Come on,” he said with a brief wave of his hand to beckon the boy forward. “We can start walking over to Crimson Dreams now, if you’d like.”