Moonspear this soul's a stowaway

Not for the first time, he was somewhat grateful for the change in topic. Of course his siblings had always been blessed with that innate ability to avoid the sensitive; it was as though somewhere in their upbringing it had been instilled in them not to ask questions they weren’t certain they wanted answers to, and that some discoveries were better left sought out on their own.

The topic of his life and his children, however, should have been an easier one to answer.

Dirge was not one to speak of himself or his achievements, at least in the company of strangers. His sister was not a stranger in the normal sense; she was family, though the years between them were a great deal now. The words should have come flowing out, but they were instead pushed about conversationally as though he had something to skirt around in her company.

“Well, I wish I could say that my life here has been idyllic, but we have been plagued with some bouts of unrest from outside our borders from time to time. But my children are a bright spot in the gloom, figuratively speaking—and literally,” he said with a managed wave of good humor. “There are eight of them for now, four that were born last year, and four born this year. Atlas, Antares, Osiris, and Vega are the eldest, Altair, Caelum, Mira, and Mintaka are the youngest.”

Generic, bland; he worked to find a way to spice it up.

“They’re a motley crew to say the least. Osiris is perhaps the most prolific in skills of them. He’s young yet but a good hunter, will make a good scout if not another able soul to mend our borders. Atlas is close behind him though, and Antares and Vega seem to enjoy slinking around but they do their part. The youngest are still finding their way in the world… Hydra and I have our hands full keeping them corralled with all this rain drenching everything, though I suppose I could say the same of anyone who dares to watch them outside of her sisters or I,” he chuckled. “But I won’t spoil the fun in you meeting them and finding out for yourself.”

And now it was his turn—he deftly turned the question back.

“But what of you? What have you been up to all these years? Why did you leave home?”