Arrow Lake and if that mockingbird don't sing and that ring don't shine

The whine undid him further, but his daughter saved the day; he accepted the little attack readily, letting her seize his cheek, even as pain rippled through him. His bi-colored gaze flashed to Dragomir, silently urging him to play, too. Wrestling was better than crying, especially if it was the last time for a while he'd see his children again.

To see them, to interact with them, to love them. . .

Was he making the right choice? Even weeks from this day, he wouldn't be able to answer that question. All he knew was that he was hurling himself into a maelstrom for their sake, not for his. They'd grow up in the place where they should have been born. And their enemies--though they didn't know them as such--would taste death.

It'll all be okay, Verx murmured, wagging his tail. Now c'mon, come kick your dad's stupid ass.

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