Iorwerth's father hadn't been the most affectionate of parents. Whilst he had been the only child the man had been a decent father, though such soft signs of kindness most certainly had not been shared between the pair. Perhaps his mother had once treated him in such a loving manner, if only suggested by the ridiculous nickname of Iolo she had given him until he had corrected her on the matter. After that it had likely become painstakingly obvious to the woman that he was not under any circumstances her little boy and therefore not to be treated as such. His life had certainly toughened him, a rather emotionless being at times.
He didn't answer her question, certainly not fond of the contact from a stranger and wishing to move away from the topic at the risk of possibly receiving another of these hugs. Instead the possibility of Resnera being a refugee was to be the new subject, a far more important and useful one than discussing hugs, at least Iorwerth certainly thought so anyway though it seemed that the young girl had little idea about the plan.
"I know what you said. You're not fighting in the war though are you and so I imagine your pack will be sending you here anyway." He informed her, fully explaining just what he had meant by the question. So young and rather innocent he supposed, he highly doubted that Valhalla would be allowing her to fight. On she rambled though about the possibility of getting into trouble until an apology tumbled from her mouth. "If I am correct and you are meant to be here at some point I highly doubt you'll get into any trouble." He clarified, glad that she had stopped speaking again, giving him a chance to instead.
