Ghost Lion Crag i left my home still as a child

it was probably a good thing, in hindsight, that arcturus wasn't a smooth-talker. if he was, wraen would have been in trouble, because he definitely would have hit all the high notes of a lady-killer: athletic, tall, dark, handsome, and of course, eloquent.

who doesn't love an eloquent man?

the secret is, most women. arcturus hadn't lived long enough to witness this, but his poor grasp of being verbose did him many favors, in many ways he was not yet aware of. unaware that she could be laughing sarcastically (she was not - not that he'd know), arcturus gave a knowing smile. it was a good compliment, right? to anyone who knew him, of course it was - his mother was probably one of his favorite individuals, but she was also (in arcturus' eyes) old as dirt.

maybe even older.

he did not expect to hear his father mentioned next; his ears swept forward, and he propped up on his elbows. "that's my father," arcturus answered obediently, his gaze narrowing. "how do you know him?"