The utter rudeness of the children took Ashamin by surprise, but he refused to let it show. Could these really be Rexanna’s children? The resemblance was uncanny but their personality showed no signs of their mother—well, at least not the version of her that Ashamin foolishly thought he knew. Perhaps, were the Clovenheart more aware of the thief’s true motivations, he would have felt differently.

When the boy child spoke of their mother’s horn (not, of course, without insulting Ashamin’s) he could only further be convinced of their parentage. Unable to reconcile his image of Rexanna with such boorish children, he focused instead on the filly’s comment. Their father was a King. And though Ashamin was not from the Edge, nor had he ever been there, he knew enough to know that among all the Sultans, Czars, and Lords in this land there was only one who called himself King.

So Tembovu the Elephant King was their father, then. News of leadership travelled in Helovia, even to the ears of outcasts. The Clovenheart kept his nose from wrinkling at the thought of whatever stallion must have been raising his children to act like this.

Then again, Ru’in didn’t seem to be on his best behavior either. Though Ashamin appreciated the boy’s defense of his own horn, the competitive edge to the words and their almost cold tone threw him off guard. Surely he would need to be more present, and speak with Hotaru.

Nonetheless, Ashamin was no perfect stag. His biases would always be present, and in this situation his favor was heavily leaning towards his own son. The blinders of fatherhood completely dismissed the idea that Ru’in had anything to do with the child’s falling over. After all, how could his son—so far away—have caused the slip?

He subdued his tone and cast a kind glance to his son before deciding to speak. ”He’s right, horns come in all shapes and sizes and they all have different benefits. Mine protects my face like an armor," Ashamin explained, highlighting the rarely considered benefit of his less attractive feature. "I’m sure your mother’s horn is very useful as well. You can assure her that Ashamin the Clovenheart means you no harm, and you can tell your father the same," he said, emphasizing his name so that they might remember it and pass along the message.

His long tail twisted anxiously among the grasses and his two companions peered into his mind, searching for the source of anxiety. But it was clear that to see Rexanna’s children like this before him (for he was certain now that they had to be hers,) fathered by an apparently ill-mannered king (but did it matter who? Wasn’t the only thing that mattered was her love for someone else,) caused him some sort of stress. He focused on Ru’in, on the intricate waves of his charming young voice, distorted as it was by the tusks he bore. "It’s of course easy for all of us to fall, but perhaps we should help them look. Don’t you think so, son?" Ashamin said, whispering the last part so perhaps only Ru’in could hear. Lochan perked up at the thought of a search, or some sort of opportunity to put his sharp senses to use.

And still it didn’t occur to Ashamin that his own son’s impetuousness was to blame.

""