Cosmo Canyon, much like many places, was a place that Grimoire had only stopped for one night to rest and refuel. Not to mention alone. Perhaps it was a good thing, that Grimoire met with Vincent at the foot of the mountains, and instead of one of these towns.

Less questions that way perhaps.

Or perhaps not as he caught an elderly man stare at his son.

Subtly, he kept himself in between the man's line of sight and his son. Vincent would probably scoff at Grimoire, saying how he didn't do it right.

What a stubborn, snarky child he had. Has. Vincent is still there.

A part of the man took pleasure at seeing Vincent look around the town, behind the sunglasses. Another part was grateful he remembered to have Vincent wear the sunglasses before they head into town. It would… keep the light down.

Grimoire steered his son in the direction of the inn. He wanted to be in and out. Gone by the morning.

However he was still debating on if he should have them stay. Try to see if Vincent would want to interact with the locals. But then he feared on what could happen. Fear truly is a driving force.

Quickly, he got them into the inn, stating that his son wasn't feeling all that well, and was going to stay in the room. Thankfully there was no questions asked, other than if he planned on bringing food into the room to eat.

"Yes that's right. Do you have any recommendations?" He said, keeping up the illusion.

The innkeeper hummed. "I know the chef downstairs makes a mean bone broth. Paired with some bread that he makes tends to do well with the customers that can't exactly keep their drinks down."

Grimoire nodded. "That sounds wonderful. After we get situated I think that's what I'll do."

The two then shared a smile, and Grimoire once again herded his son away.

It was an odd thing, knowing Vincent was mimicking him. Really, it felt like Vincent was a child again in some ways. A quiet, strange, child that one. But honestly, all children were strange. Thinking back to all the different things he has heard from random children throughout his years nearly made him chuckle.

All children truly were strange.

A glance. Vincent seemed to have some trouble with his suitcase.

He gave a small smile, and went to help Vincent.

Grimoire woke up with a start. He wasn't quite sure how he woke up, but he just… had the sudden feeling of fright run through him.

Heart pounding, he turned in his bed to check on Vincent. It stopped when he saw that the bed was empty.

He shot up, searching frantically. He had to calm down. Maybe Vincent went to search for the bathroom?

He couldn't help but doubt that.

Legs trembled as he scrambled out of bed. Grimoire quickly went to grab his duster, wanting to look somewhat modest, and left the room. It was harder to see, as all the lanterns and candles weren't lit, but he managed to navigate without making a racket. He did, however, checked the bathroom. That hope was still there.

Vincent was not.

With a heavy heart, Grimoire set his sights outside.

It didn't take long. Practically one step outside and Grimoire found Vincent.

There, in the dead of night, next to the burning bonfire, was his son… with some sort of cub. Or puppy. And he was… playing.

His legs felt limp as he walked over to his son.

Vincent was batting his hands at the cub puppy. Like play fighting. Something like a smile was on Vincent's face. His red eyes were sparkling.

Grimoire accidentally kicked a pebble. It noisily clattered around, making the two stop, turning their heads in tandem, the little one a little slow.

The man finally saw that there was fire that was at the tip of the cub puppy's tail. And it wasn't hurt.

"Father." Vincent rasped, slightly nodding his head.

The cub puppy tilted its head, looked between Vincent and then Grimoire. And it… spoke.

"Chaoses… father? Chaos has a papa?" It sounded just like any young child.

All children were strange. And it seemed like Grimoire's own wasn't the strangest. Or perhaps he was.