The first to come is Tyrath, accompanied by none other than Sikeax's Hobgoblin. He can feel Vadir's distaste echoing through their bond, and with a cold smile and snorting chuckle he remembers his previous meeting with Sikeax and her companion. Vadir ended up locked in a cage of stone...little wonder she has no love for Hobgoblin.

Volterra spares a thought for why Sikeax's companion should be with Tyrath. He doesn't know that the mare has adopted Tyrath as her own - the leviathan rather thinks he's been doing a fine job of single parenthood, given Aithniel's seeming reluctance to care for her son. Volterra has done everything he can to get to know the colt, teach him Hungarian, answer his questions, show him anything he wishes to be shown, and offer him as much love as he possibly can. After all, Tyrath is the first one of his children that he's been with from the very beginning - he spoke with Aithniel when she was pregnant, attended the birth, and has been a solid figure in the boy's life ever since. It only amplifies his lingering feeling of shame that he couldn't have done the same with Zhu, Kid and Sabre.

The youth's respectful tones reach Volterra's keen ears, and he offers his son a broad smile. "Üdvözletem, fiú," he rumbles, shifting his muzzle forwards to try and touch it to Tyrath's broad shoulder. Although not the most affectionate of fathers (his children shouldn't expect regular embraces or tender touches), Volterra is still just as touch-orientated as he was when he was a boy. The best way to acquaint with his offspring is, in his opinion, through touch.

Before he can explain to Tyrath why he's called him, Kid arrives, and it would be the understatement of the century to say he is not nearly as pleased to see him as Tyrath is. Vérzés, who has accompanied the colt, gives a swift chirp of greeting to Hobgoblin before departing to search for more of his bonded's offspring - as he swoops over Kid's head to leave, he just catches the breathy whisper, and delivers it to his bonded. The goliath's brow lifts into a sardonic simper. Half-wit? Really? "I'm so glad you are putting my teachings to good use," he drily remarks.

Kid continues. His tirade is...disappointing, to say the least, and Volterra tires of the child's poor attitude by the minute. He can take a certain amount of aggro from his offspring (after all, in Kid and Zhu's case, their ire is well-deserved, to a certain point) yet he is sick to the back teeth of the boy's attempts to undermine him, his barbed comments, his evident lack of respect towards his father. Volterra has apologised, he has explained his reasons, and that is that; Kid seems intent on keeping up a grudge just for the sake of keeping it. How many times must he be told that the sole reason Volterra did not interact with him when he was younger was because he didn't know he existed? Unless the giant gains the ability to go back in time, then there is nothing he can do to change the past. In his not-so-humble opinion, Kid needs to man the hell up and get over it.

"Tell him that," comes Vadir's frosty purr of a voice. "Hatchling must learn place."

"Don't," warns Vérzés in his throaty rumble. "Will only make him hate more."

Volterra's opinion falls somewhere between the two. He is not usually one to bite his tongue when he has something to say, yet he knows any rebuttal will only result in Kid growing ever more determined to piss him off. But the stallion will not have his sons disrespect him; that is a hard line he draws, ironically inherited from his own absent sire. "That is enough," he says; his voice is a low, dangerous rumble, oddly devoid of anger and all the more terrifying for it. It is the voice of a king, the deadly rasp of a irritated father, the thunderous growl of a man to whom discipline is a familiar friend. It's a voice Confutatis would often use on him, a voice that would fill him with far more dread than any amount of shouting. "I do not expect you to like me, Kid, but you will not speak to me like that. Would you address your mother in such a manner? I think not. I quite understand your reasons for hating me, and I offer you more leeway than most because of that, but my tolerance has its limits."

In his head, both dragons marvel at the calmness of his voice. They are used to his temper being such a blatant thing, an obvious and fiery display of rage and domination. They are not used to this, the cold, dangerous rumble of the oncoming storm. Vadir approves; the chilling sternness that Volterra is exhibiting is what she exemplifies in her attitude. Whilst Volterra and Vérzés are fire, Vadir is ice. They are the storm itself; she is the first ebbings of thunder. They are the sword slipped without preamble through the heart; she is the knife in the dark. She is no less deadly than they are, yet she keeps her power contained, trapped, controlled. That is the difference in Volterra's voice now compared to his usual ill-tempered rantings - it is more tethered, calm, but deadly. Heavens, he never thought he would have his very own Stern Dad Voice.

He breathes deeply, and glances around for his other children. None seem forthcoming, and his face twists into concern. Where are Astarot, Zhu and Valdis? He has been searching religiously for Sabre, but could he have lost three other children in the process? He's so intent on this thought that he hardly notices Kid and Tyrath interacting; apparently they've met, too. After casting a hopeful glance through the trees, frowning to himself, the beast looks back to his two gathered sons.

"The reason I have summoned you both is that I wish for each and every one of my children to get to know each other, and myself. The bonds of family are the strongest any of us can experience, and it is important that we nurture that. The six of you are the future; for all I know, my ambitions could send me into an early grave, in which case I want you all to have each other to rely upon." When he thinks about it, six doesn't actually seem that many - Zhu, Kid, Sabre, Tyrath, Astarot, Valdis. For now, though, it is quite enough. Although he cannot refrain from women entirely, perhaps it is time he took a leaf out of Kid's book and learnt how to pull out.

He looks to Kid again - he expects the boy to have rebuked sharply to his previous words, but he does not let that affect him as his voice and expression softens. In Sabre's absence, he can truly sympathise with the youth - if he lost Nymeria, his world would be crushed. "Now, you mentioned Sabre. My dragons and I have been searching Helovia regularly since we last spoke, but we have found no sign of her. If we do not locate her soon, I intend to ask the dragons to begin searching outside Helovia's borders, and report back to me immediately if they discover her. I promised you I would bring her back to you - I am a man of my word."

Now his massive head turns, so he can look at both sons at once. "My newest child, who I doubt either of you will have met yet, should hopefully be along soon. Her name is Valdis, and she...is different to the pair of you." His voice catches in his throat, his pain evident. Valdis. His youngest, his darling daughter, the living embodiment of his utter failure as a father. Blind and wingless because of some unknown threat that Volterra could not save her from. Truly, he is worried about his other children meeting her. What if they bully her, or refuse to acknowledge her as their sister? No, he will not allow that. "Different, but no less important. She needs both of you, and Astarot and Zhu too - her strong brothers." He looks sternly to both sons - if they decide they do not like Valdis, he truly doesn't know what he'll do.