Cedar Sweep Wait for them to ask you who you know

“Bain.” The gangster spoke to his eldest son, taking in the familiar form of his boy, though admittedly less of a boy these days. Bain was a man, perhaps not in the form of full sexual maturity but he was a man by age's dictation. The year of their lives had flown by to Arturo and yet he would not have given that year for anything. He did not look at his son full grown and feel the same aching and sad nostalgia that Devin had inspired within him. Certantly, there was a fondness and missing for the days of old but there had came a point when his boys had become fine young men, in need of their own independence but his daughters...they would always be his princesses. Letting go of Cearney, but Devin especially, had been the hardest for Arturo — unknowing as he was that the exact opposite had been hard for Duana.

“How was your journey to these Wilds?” Arturo asked his son with genuine curiosity, pausing to assess Bain as discreetly as he could, looking to assure himself that his eldest was in as good condition as he would be in a famine. He was not so bold about it as he'd been with his daughters but the concern and worry remained present and did not lessen for Bain.