They came up upon the porch and as the Whilom’s words explained the significance of such a structure Pripyat’s wide eyes swept the area. Leaders got to stand up on the porch and the others sat down below? Where would he go? His father was the leader, and Mother had said that she had helped to lead… but did she still? And what about him? Pripyat knew he was only a child, but did his parent’s ranks give him some sort of standing? Would he work his way up the ranks and lead alongside them? Suddenly he puffed out his chest in conviction. Yes, one day he felt that he would. Maybe not lead, but he’d stay here in Phoenix Valley and help his mother and father. The small grey creature would grow, gain rank and be respected. Any other future seemed unimaginable right then.
" You will stand here wiff my fawter?" Pripyat’s eyes were curious, intelligent. Although he asked such simple questions the boy could read so much more from his mother’s face, her tone. Although he hadn’t asked directly what happened between his mother and father to estrange them, he knew it was something bad, complicated beyond even their complete understanding. He knew that slowly it was getting patched up, or they were trying, that they cared for one another, and for him, each in their own way. Geneva’s love was far more obvious and warm, while Jefferson’s could be hard and confusing, but it was there, somewhere in that one eye that had peered down at him at Raven Beacon.
At her next words Pripyat suddenly worried. What if it was too complicated? What if Jefferson didn’t want them? The melancholy that shined in Geneva’s eyes made him anxious, but surely if Jefferson hadn’t wanted them he would have come that day to the lighthouse. In his most steady voice, sapphire eyes locking with emerald, the boy answered his mother unwavering. " I’s be happy here." He would be, he’d make himself be.
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