where'd you go

This post was a lot shorter than I thought it was. :(

Charon turned around at the sound of Ragnar's voice, the Viking saw, the child's startled expression turning to one of recognition quickly. Ragnar's remaining eye of Caribbean blue studiously watched the boy's posture when he apologized — something very rare in and of itself — noting the difference when Charon's posture straightened. The words that tumbled, accusingly to the Viking, forth from the boy's lips were surprising if only because Ragnar had not expected the child to turn on him like such. Yet, they were also not surprising because they mirrored Ragnar's own internal anger towards himself. For slipping. For being the worst foster parent, though the sad part was that Thistle and him had been their best chance at life after Julooke and Verrine. The Jarl took the child's anger, though. “I know,” The Viking replied solemnly. For a long moment Ragnar was silent, trying to decide if he was angry or just weary. Or both. He did not know how to fix Charon's crumbling family any more than he knew how to fix his own. Although, his family had been falling apart a long, long time ago and it had been vain, the Viking saw now, to think that a fresh start could automatically fix it. “What do you suppose I do, hm?” The Jarl asked the child rougher than he had meant too, less of a question and more of a demand.