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[/html]A thin, though unrestrained, smile cracked through the old man's defenses, breaking a rarely-seen brightness in his scarred features. Before he had learned of Miriette, Heath and their brother—not to mention Addison and Pripyat; damn, were there that many kids?—Ty had been the first Jefferson might have considered anywhere "close" to a child to he, especially since DaVinci had not returned to still-barely serve the role at the time Ty had apprenticed the scarred old man. Until the day Tyrone turned into his father—and even then, probably—the cyclops could not bear to turn the boy away. Though he had apprenticed Jefferson in the man's early days as a Valley member, Ty had not turned out the way Jefferson had. For that, the brute could breathe only relief.
"All right, Ty," he said, nodding quietly. "You'll have to start over in the ranks, you know that. A Loas. I'm sure you'll move up, just like last time, or at least I'm expecting you to." He gave him a look, but broke his scars into a smile once more before starting away. "Make yourself comfortable. I'm glad you're home."