Kansas was worried about how he sounded to his kids in the same way a schoolboy might worry about how he sounded to his peers. The boy wanted to impress his puppies. He wanted them to like him. Being a likeable father was something he spent quite a bit of time worrying about, perhaps more than he should. Well, he spent more time thinking of ways to be like a friend to them than he did thinking about how to be like a guide. Of course, he was aware of this little flaw in himself, also. But he didn't honestly think he could correct it. So, right now, though he knew Gotham required a little direction, he was more preoccupied with trying to make their excursion fun than anything else. Plus, being surrounded by such a multitude of books made the sandy wolf giddy with happiness of his own.
With the concern of saying the right things in mind, Kansas felt a tad bit worried when Gotham didn't respond to his comment about the number of books, wondering if it had been a stupid thing to say. Short of biting his lip, Kansas only kept moving, ducking around a shelf of books and heading toward the windows he had finally spotted up ahead. The child had a question for him; something the Sadira thought of a lot—every time he went to open a book, in fact: Where on earth had all those ideas come from? How could one be blessed with a mind so full of ideas that most had never before even considered? It was dumbfounding. "Shi—Gosh, I don't know. Humans had a lot of thoughts that they wanted to write down and share with... with the world. Everyone who wrote a book had totally different kinds of thoughts. That's why there're so many."
[/html]