Moonspear her vestal livery is but sick and green

A warning growl rumbled in Charon's throat as he was called a kid, and he felt rather prickly, even though he knew that this was simply Aesop's way of saying things. He didn't remember there ever being a time that he wasn't called a kid by Aesop. Yet the mention of Ragnar made him feel even more prickly — not because it wasn't true, but because you didn't just dub yourself someone's father like that and diminish their other father. Even if Thistle was the one who'd mostly raised Charon, not Ragnar, he'd still taken him in and provided for him on some level. Aesop'd taught Charon stuff, but it was different; each had played their own role.

But there was also another thing to the matter, a different thing; a core of truth of some sort, he realised. He'd never thought of Aesop as his father, and still didn't, but he was sort of like a crazy fun uncle, or whatever. He wanted his children to have that crazy fun.. great uncle, or whatever, but he also didn't want Aesop to just up and leave without notion again. "How do I know?" he asked eventually, looking at Aesop. "Why didn't you say you were leaving before? How do I know it'll be different this time?" He felt like he should run Aesop off, not give him another chance to prove himself... But he wanted so badly to believe it would be different this time.