Bearclaw Valley I've heard the mumbling of citadels shifting on this richter scale.

The boy thought this stranger was fascinating. He studied the man in no particular order; stolen glances watching the angles of the face obliquely, noting the dark cowl, the small brown ears that pointed like horns, the grizzled body.

Are you my father? He croaked, having planted his bum upon the dirt again. His head tilts, and Glaucos wonders if there is any familial resemblance to Astyanax. He does not recall his parents that well - mostly his mother, but those morbid images were fading now - and often he wondered about his origins.

It does occur to him a bit late, if this was his father then he would know where mother went. At the very least he would not be so cautious upon approaching; although Glaucos also wondered if he was particularly ugly or bad, cursed in a way to make him un-lovable, unwanted. His father may have known this upon the boy's birth and merely fled from it.