When Conor had been much younger he had believed his father to be a stereotype. Males were aggressive and unreliable, but this had been wrong. The man here had shown him such kindness and he knew that it was sincere. Another brilliant fact was that the silver coated man had refrained from laughing too much at Conor’s close to retarded behaviour on the boat. All in all it was a ridiculous thing the young boy had done by hiding in the small space, and he was lucky that the owner had turned out to have a kind and understanding heart. He was glad that he had gotten the opportunity to meet this odd Rurik Russo, and although he would never reveal how uncomfortable at least the first part of the boat trip had been, he was grateful for what had happened. He had dived into water and revelled at the different beauty that could be found beneath the surface. He had floated together with currents and seen trees and grass pass by. It had been so very different to travel in the water on a vessel that drifted on top of the moving surface. The floor was concrete under him, but it moved endlessly and messed up the boy’s balance that then messed up his stomach to a degree where everything he had eaten was flushed out again.
Ears flickered when an invitation to visit the pleasant man in Halifax came up unexpectedly. Conor knew that he was still very young and it was his experience that he still belonged more with young souls not yet reached adulthood. He never really fitted in anywhere. While he seemed to have a generally mature personality at a young stage, he had still not developed enough to fit in as an adult. He was very vulnerable still after having experienced such a dreadful childhood with a notorious psychopath and there was no father figure in his life to teach him the tougher edges. He only had Alexey and though he did not consciously miss anything, he did need a male to look up to and learn from. The boy had enjoyed most of this trip and appreciated the level of conversation that had been shared despite the quality and length of it. The Russo male had treated the Dahlian boy as an equal despite his age and their odd first introduction and that meant a hell of a lot to the young male. Mind still pushed to drift away and dream of long journeys and exotic lands impossibly far from this home. What kind of creatures lived over there across the sea? He knew that his mother, Firefly, had lived in a place named Ireland and his own name was also brought from Europe.
The golden furred boy had to wonder though how much of his pleasant mood was thanks to the odd join that the Russo man had shared so generously. He knew little about drugs in general, though he could remember quickly brushing through the topic in one of his psychology books. He would definitely take a closer look once he had found his way home and to that book where there was a whole chapter explaining what happened in the body when drugs were introduced to it. What Conor knew was what his stomach had settled after inhaling the burning smoke down into his lungs, and his mind absently noted that marijuana could be used to settle nausea; perhaps more. He continued to look at the man and realized that his mind had drifted off again instead of forging a reply to the man’s words. He had troubles to understand why he was treated this nicely when he behaved like some kind of mentally challenged creature. ”Thank you, I’d like that very much,” the boy answered now and smiled with true gratitude. This was one of the few – if not the only, actually – adult males that he felt that he had gotten well along with and the opportunity to see him again and get to know him better was well received.
He wondered if the man lived alone by the docks. If so, then perhaps Conor could offer him some hospitality and invite him over to Dahlia de Mai as well? He was far from certain of this though, for he knew how his father sometimes preferred to treat strangers and it was not very pleasant. The man’s deep and comfortable voice went now on and praised curiosity for what it was and the young male felt his body relax. He believed in those words that were spoken. Curiosity was a brilliant thing, but Haku had always pushed him down whenever he had shown curiosity and personality. His father had not wanted them – this Conor knew, and it had been wrong of Cercelee to take them away from their mother and place them at their father’s. They should not have been allowed to stay with any of their parents. It did not help to wish for a different start though, for this was impossible. ”This is true,” the boy replied to Rurik now instead of digging deeper into depressing thoughts. Now when he knew where they were going and where the final destination was he settled on the bench next to the adult. Instead of fearing the sometimes bumpy ride he figured he should try to enjoy it if possible. He felt no longer half as sick as he had and it was not as if there was anything left to vomit out anyway.
He wanted to understand what was going on in her head with his thoughts. ”Rurik,” he spoke; well aware he was jumping through different topics very fast. ”What was it in that cigarette you gave me?” he fell quiet once again and wondered how he was to go on about the weird changes that had occurred. ”My head feels slow and I can’t stop letting my thoughts run off in all directions.” he felt a bit foolish talking like this, for he knew not if this was an effect from the drug or something else. He knew though that he had not felt this way before and thought it was. However, if it turned out not to be then he would feel very foolish. That was the young Conor; he did not own much self confidence.
