“Well you are small, I can see how you slipped in.” she watched him for a moment.
“What’s your name, da’len?” she asked and beckoned the child to come in and she took him to the tavern.
“Where are your parents?"
”I-I know what you’re thinking but … despitehow small I am … I’m a-actually twenty years old.“ Physically, anyway. Though he did not make motion to that comment, instead allowing her to believe as she would from that portion.
A small hesitation was held when asked his name before he followed the woman to the tavern. ”M-my name … it’s Emil. Emil Castagnier … and my parents have …“ Well, he had to bite his lip at ‘have been gone,’ since the people which memory manifestations still lingered about the word 'parents’ were that of figments.
