Bearclaw Valley No, child, you cannot have grenades or assault rifles in the classroom

astara noted the temerity in which aventus suddenly wriggled forward. many times, she had felt the boy might be a bit too timid -- a bit too wary -- many times, she had wondered if he would suffer the same afflictions as she.

in that retrospect, she was a better mother than she realized -- for she strove very hard to to stifle none of her son's budding needs. if this little crusade would help him actualize the confidence come by his natural pedigree, astara just might humor it.

for a time.

aventus was off like a blur; astara's ears flew forward in dramatic pantomime, and she lurched after him. she did not catch up to the boy right away, rather, she sought to control the length of her stride as if to be desperately left in the reeds by aventus' inspired bolt. eventually, she would catch up to him -- but for now she lurked after at an easy coast, curious to see what aventus would do with his newfound discovery of the outerworld.