"So I should keep the child out of direct moonlight, just in case?" Rhosiris cracked a tired smile, before finally mustering the energy to stand up. After all, why not? Why wouldn't this whole situation be as wildly complicated as possible?
If it was passed down from mother to daughter in most circumstances, then it was fine, right? But if there were no daughters, then it also happened. And, to make it even more complicated, there wasn't exactly a mother here, either. As handsome as Hero was Rhosiris was very sure none in his line had ever included one of the Ztara Vratazi, and the people of these southlands were so... different.
He very well might have a puppy, and wouldn't that be what he deserved? Genuinely, he should have been having the meltdown of the century, just an absolute cacophony of panic and despair, and yet there he stood, feeling rather like someone had only mildly inconvenienced him or made mention his child might have allergies.
It was madness. But, hey, madness ran in his family, now didn't it?
"I'm not angry you didn't tell me. I... am glad I know, though. Imagine, if we'd never seen one another again, and this one just grows up barking at squirrels." He shook his head after a moment. "...I'm starving, and if I stay in here either I will sleep the day away or my kin will think you've eaten me. Do you want breakfast?"