like (adopted) mother like (adopted) son

One of the absolute worst parts of his fading vision was that he could not longer see the subtleties of facial expressions. Aryn could've been smiling or scowling at him, for all he knew; but the way her voice sounded made it obvious her brow was likely furrowed in concern and she was most likely looking at him with compassion, not far off from how she used to look at him. There was an odd tone to her voice that he couldn't quite place, though it wasn't like Veigar had ever been the best at reading others. If anything it was something he'd always struggled with.

"That's a non answer," he told her gently. He'd never been a particular warm wolf even in his youth and now that he was approaching his second birthday he hadn't gotten any less hostile - though his mother figures were a stark exception to that rule. Though his words were warm enough though the luminescent markings across his body flared all at once, strong enough to be seen in daylight, though the glow was short-lived.

Her question earned a low sigh. "It's fine. Mostly healed now, I think." His main concern was that he was in fighting shape again as soon as possible; who knew how long it might be until another group showed up and threatened them? Perhaps next time the stakes would be real, and his loss would be even more stinging than it was now. What hurt even worse than his loss though was that Aryn had stepped in to protect him. The loyalty was appreciated, though he wasn't sure he could ever really convey that, but the fact that he'd needed a defender at all was embarrassing.

It was hard to not be paranoid. Had she noticed the way his eyesight had been deteriorating at an agonizing slow rate? The speed at which it had occurred had helped him acclimate to things, to avoid anyone finding out, but if anyone would notice it would be her. Maybe she'd found out and she wanted to protect him. He feared how the wolves of Habari would treat him if - no, once they found out. He wasn't foolish enough to think he could hide it forever. "You don't need to jump into a fight for me like that, you know. I can handle it." Aryn was not a fighter, not deep down in her heart, and he knew that. No matter how much training or practice she managed he simply couldn't see her as one, and the thought of her getting hurt because he couldn't hold his own didn't settle well with him at all.