Bramblepoint red-hawk for dinner

That seemed like a stupid question. Well I don't know, you're the healer, not her. His response earned a scolding glare from his mother, which seemed to be effective in settling some of his riled nerves. Leto sighed, offering Aureli an apologetic look before she turned to slip back into the bushes - likely to retrieve the hawk.

Before you, it was an old woman who was meant to teach me some magic third language, and before that it was rubbing mud into my fur because someone told her to. He spoke with a lowered voice now, the frown clear on his small face. You can't make me hear any better, and you can't fix my skin. By now, Delos knew that well.

All I want is to be able to take care of myself.. and I don't think you can help me. Delos knew nothing of herbs or alternative remedies, of skills to ease the lives of those like him, and he didn't expect to be taught. He would continue to be cared for by Leto like a parasite, and then one day she might finally leave him behind like she had tried to do in the caldera.