Gyrfalcon's Keep do small things in a great way

Firebirds. Landslide. Asterism Grove. Father. Dead.

A lot of confusing words, that Merlin was supposed to know. A story that he was supposed to fit in. And that intese stare of the other that was borderline rude now made the boy even more uncomfortable, he took another step back and turned his gaze away, but it helped very little with the fact that he was finding himself in a sticky situation. For a moment he thought about Njord and that his friend was too far away to come to a rescue. Because he was very tempted to tell this guy to shut up and eff off, but he would never pick up a fight with a guy that was not his size or in his league. Bronco did not fit the criteria. 

"Uh... my father runs with the bachelors and my mother... she lives in the mountains," he told him. It felt about right. The origins story that his mind had cooked up and at his age no one really cared about the names and places. He did not know, how he had come among the pack of those rogues, which would probably mean that he was born among them. As for a mother... Hadn't he met her recently? Red-haired, striking resemblance? He furrowed his brow. Yeah... that had to be. "Last I checked my...dad knows that I am fine and well. I haven't seen my mom in a while, though..." he continued to spin the tale, a reality he had built for himself to have at least some sort of solid foundations and frame to his existence.