Neverwinter Forest i'm beyond the archetype

Cypress flinched sharply at the words that fell quietly from Kjalarr’s lips. “Our father,” he’d said, but the only other wolf who had ever said that to Cypress was Rannoch. For a moment, just a whisper of his tightly controlled pain broke surface; a soft, hiccuping sob shook the boy’s body but left his eyes blessedly dry. Swallowing hard, “Why do you have two names?” he wondered aloud in a dry, dusty murmur, turning then to Shrike. “How do you both know Allure?” Cypree was only mildly curious about the answers to his questions; mainly he craved companionship and conversation on a very basic level, whether he realized it or not.