There is a curse to fatherhood that Cera cannot understand. But he is aware that Midas knows his inflections too well not to catch the meaning of his posture, the aura that radiates off him like toxic waves. Says nothing, knows there is no need to point it out as the two take in the sight of one another. Time has changed them, drawing weariness upon his father's shoulders like a shawl, unwanted by dutifully accepted. Cera has a taste of duty now, of rigidity and the comfort of knowing things must be done. But his heart is still free and wild, and in his eyes there is fire that had been smoldering and growing with every passing season. Rules do not bind him as they do his father. His position is not of importance, the rules that govern him are slack in comparison. But there is to be no more time for nostalgia and awareness of the passage of time, stamped onto their bodies like glaring signs to one another. Like a changed note in a favorite tune, it is glaringly obvious to them, yet subtle and nigh unnoticeable to those who had not reveled in its sounds all their life.

Harks fall back and Cera knows, in that moment, that his father has taken his words in a way he had not intended. Sighing softly in his throat he let his gaze fall instead to his fathers muzzle, knowing the words that would come would not be what he'd wanted. His anger was not at Midas, but at the situation. But like a flame he burned all he touched in his anger, even when his intentions had been only to warm. So instead he listens, does not allow the anger of his father's voice to touch his own emotions, for if he does they will end this meeting screaming like foals at odds with one another. Emeralds flick upward to meet gold, silent as a grave, when Midas lashes out, demanding his answers that he would not give. Frustration has no hold on him now. The sickness had changed him, and there was nothing to do but stare and await his time to speak. He would not compete with frustration to have his own thoughts heard.

Finally it is his time to speak. He considers his words carefully, not desiring another misunderstanding, and speaks slowly and with purpose in the depths of new ranges his voice has only now adjusted to.

"I do not think little of your love, father. But my doubt is not unwarranted. To me, I only knew that you had abandoned not only our herd but I as well. I came here for answers. Not for war." And oh he is old, he feels weary with the weight of wisdom he doesn't desire. But his words are calm, even if they are sorrowfully devoid of much emotion, his own too tangled and dead to understand at that point in time. "You have not before, and so to lie and say you would remain in the Throat before this plague began, it was hard for me to understand." Midas had never lied to him, Cera would admit that both proudly and reluctantly all at once. So to feel like he was lied to was an arrow of anger to his heart when it had occurred.

"Your allegiance is not mine. I can't tell you what you should have said. Gaucho denied his title from the Sun God. If the Lord places you here, then so be it." The finality of his words hurts him, but only a twitch of his cheek is allowed to show. Is this their parting? "I merely wish you would have had the courage to leave the Throat when your family wished it of you, only to listen when a God demanded. I cannot help but feel anger, to know I could have been with Hototo and Ranjiri, instead of alone upon those sands." Anger is missing from his statement, instead there is defeat and acceptance. He cannot change the past now, so there is no need to be angry, and even if there was a minor right to the emotion he would not take it if it warranted a fight between them.

Jaw worked momentarily at his father's ending words, shuttering his eyes briefly and drawing breath into his lungs to calm himself. "I cannot set mind to task to be half-god, father. I cannot set mind to task to be beautiful and effervescent, beloved by all I meet. There is only what I can do with the flesh I have been given. But a valiant, experienced soldier will never amount to a naturally perfect being. Do not insult me so," and his voice trembled with emotion at the end, anger and sorrow shaking him, the only words to hold those emotions since he had begun speaking.

@[Midas]