misanthropic drunken loner

Hattori made a point of blinking slowly, highlighting the ridiculousness of Pontifex's claim. How could he not know? Did he make a habit of blindly roaming the land, stumbling upon borders only to shrug and say whoops?  Silence settled between them, accented by the soft rustle of Pontifex's fur as his tail brushed up against his hind leg and the wind in the trees. This place always had a deep and resounding quiet to it, like conversations were supposed to be held in whispers. He couldn't blame the boy for missing this place in some way, it meant a lot to his bloodline and had been his home once. Sometimes the Shogun tried to grasp onto the same sentiment, willed it to mean more to him, but Venom's legacy still felt so stale to him. As though the Abraxas faith and the Fallen God were mere excuses that had lost their merit a long time ago.

"She is better." The Shogun felt a slight tinge of warmth knowing his daughter was loved and valued, as she ought to be, but remained as aloof as always. "Is that all?" He then said, verbally shoving the yearling to get out whatever he had in mind. The sooner the better.