Blackfeather Woods so you run and you run to catch up with the sun

It was a mature response—honestly though, what else was he to expect from her, if not that? Nevertheless, he cast a small smile down upon her, saying, “You are right in that blood does not make a family.” Whilst he’d been raised to believe the opposite—the Apaata family was an old one, with a great deal of branches and traditions to follow—he’d since come to realise that blood alone did not create a family. Memories, bonds, traumas—those made families and they made them  strong.

“I’m glad his leaving has not negatively affected you,” he decided after a brief pause. He did not quite agree with how nonchalant she was in regards to learning of her family but, as he did not wish to upset her, he kept his thoughts strictly to himself—he’d tried to, at least, but they came back with a vengeance in the form of an  idea. “If you plan to leave it to the gods to tell you of your family, then would you like to hear of mine?” he asked. “You are not mine by blood but, as you said, you are family to me.” And that was unusual to admit aloud.