“C’mon stinker,” Castillon said as he playfully ducked his head to rub his whiskered lips on Velaris’s neck, then lipped at her mane. Before she could retaliate he pulled his head away from her reach and grinned wider, picking his knees up higher as he pranced out in front of her, egging the filly to chase him at a light jog. Zevulun felt grateful for his son’s easy-going nature with children and how quickly he’d stepped in to accommodate. In the eyes of the Prairie lead, sending Velaris off with Castillon and Aura for a little while was the best option, as it would leave the two other pairs free…

Zevulun waited until his son had led the filly away before he turned his head back to the gathering, blue eyes trailing from Daire to Vervain. “We’ll let you get your rest,” he advised softly, then reached to lay his lips gently on Daire’s shoulder. He could only imagine how hard it would be to part from Vervain’s side after having lost her for so long, but he sensed it was important. After they’d both rested and had time to digest… everything… they could reconvene for the discussions yet to come. Too, his own mind was racing, thinking of the stories Maziel had told them of their father and the patches Oswin had later filled.

“We can talk tomorrow.”

He glanced at his nephew - sometimes it did not sit right with him that Mariael had named him after their father - and was about to ask if he would stay with Vervain, but he noticed the silver buckskin hadn’t once taken his eyes off her. They were lined with worry but, at the edges, Zevulun noticed something that looked very much like fury. This was hard enough news to stomach at his much older age after having already gone through tragedy again and again… for young ones such as this?

Zevulun looked away from Nephilim and back to Vervain and then to Daire, waiting to see if they would both agree to what he had said.