My ma is called Neph, and my dad is called Tilney. The pirate's chest gives an odd lurch, and a warm smile slowly spreads across his battlescarred face. "Well hey, Byron, here's a coincidence for you," he says, his earthy green eyes focused on the youngster. "Tilney is my brother, which makes me your awesome Uncle Bart." Those haunting eyes of his close together in a rogueish wink. It's odd for him to know that other members of his family have children too. He'd thought he was the only parent, as oblivious and selfish as that sounds. Now irony has bitten him on the backside by taking his child away from him and blessing his siblings with offspring of their own.

He doesn't hold it against them. Every living creature deserves to have a child, to know the unbreakable bond that exists between a parent and their offspring, and he's deeply happy for Tilney.

The little nub of guilt locked away in the darkest reaches of his psyche suddenly twinges; he only hopes his brother is a better father than he was.

His attention shifts back to Aelfwine. Thankfully she doesn't press him further, and his gaze darts back to Byron as the colt asks what a bastard is. The pirate almost sputters - damn, that kid doesn't miss a trick. "I'll tell you when you're older, little fella. Also, please don't repeat that word back to your father, or your Uncle Bart might find himself minus a limb or two." Another good-humoured wink follows his statement. He's fairly sure he could beat the ass of any of his brothers even without his weapons, but he'd rather not have his first act on Helovian soil be to teach his nephew a bad word.

Aelfwine introduces herself as the boy's aunt, and it surprises Bartholomeo that the two haven't met before. Surely Tilney would have happily shown off his new son to all of his siblings, and nurtured the same close relationship that they all used to have? Tilney has had quite a few children at this point. The stag's eyes widen; this surprises him, as his brother had always seemed the monogamous sort. Hell, Bartholomeo himself used to restrict himself to one woman, even if he'd hidden his sorrow at the loss of that woman by indulging in the succours of dozens of others. Before this dark thought can sour him further, he quickly passes it off as he usually does - with a brazen comment. "Damn, and I thought I was the family stud." It looks like he'll be having a stern chat with his little brother about the birds and the bees.

I followed Tuppence here, she has … had Carlisle’s remains. The mention of Carlisle makes his gut twitch, and guilt bubbles in his heart again. "Carlisle, may she rest in peace, is why I'm here, actually." He owes his sister an explanation; it's good that he's found family here, but he isn't going to pretend that it happened on purpose. No, it was just a happy accident borne of his desire to hunt down the thieves who took his possessions. "For years I've carried her sash, so that I can always keep her close. A few weeks ago, though, I was attacked and robbed by a roving vagabond band. They took nearly everything from me - my weapons, my trinkets, and the sash." The stallion's normally jovial expression suddenly darkens, and he paws the sodden mud beneath with one dripping hoof. "I've followed one of them here, because I'm going to get that sash back even if it's the last thing I do." That is a vow he does not intend to break.

Byron and Aelfwine have both mentioned herds - the Dragon's Throat and the World's Edge. As much as he would like to join one of them, the stag simply cannot bring himself to live amongst another herd, when he left his pirate band to spend time alone. In addition, he needs all the time and energy he can muster to hunt down the thieves, and a herd may restrict that. "As much as I would like to accompany one of you to your herds - whether I'm invited or not - I need to hunt down the thieves and take back my items. That will be easier alone." He frowns and shakes his rain-soaked mane. "This place definitely has an appeal, though. I can see myself staying here. Is there an ocean nearby?" If so, he can make that his temporary home...he always feels safer by the sea.

He looks at the damp trees, sensing a new adventure on the horizon, before pivoting his ears to try and listen to Byron's answer to Aelfwine's question about where his mother is. The priority will be getting the lad home safe, and maybe giving Tilney a slap around the chops at the same time for his seemingly carefree attitude towards reproduction.