Whitefish River Vote correctly or never see your loved ones again

Someday, you might like a girl enough to make babies with her. The following shake of his head was so sudden and violent that Dragomir felt his bones pop in his shoulders. No. No. I'll never have babies with someone I don't get along with, I'll never do this to kids. Never. He was never going to have kids, period, he fervently thought, because that was just so gross. Liking girls? Grody. He would never want babies with anyone, thank you very much. But more importantly, he would never harm any kids of his as deeply as his parents had harmed him and Isilmë by being so irresponsible as to have them in the first place. Not trying to guilt trip you dad, but seriously, you guys have been some seriously garbage parents.

At least Verx was trying, so that deflated a little of Dragomir's anger. It remained simmering in his breast though, threatening to flare briefly when Vercingetorix started talking again, but he kept it under control. He wanted nothing more than to tear a strip off his father just because he was projecting the hurt from his mother going away on another trip … but even he knew that wasn't really fair. Swallowing his anguish and frustration and doubt down, he thickly said, okay, do what you want.

Did he care if they got along now? Not really. The damage was already done. But the small little child inside of him cried for his parents to get along, if only so Aurëwen would stay, if only so Vercingetorix would, too, so their family could be whole and he could stop feeling so horrible.