#48
Childhood
"Father, why doesn't the Deimos like me?"
Darc always remembered that being the first question he asked his father.
Windalf looked up at the sky, deep in thought.
"None of the kids want to play with me either… They all tease me and hurt me…"
"Darc… I'm sure you know that you're different from all the others," The blue Drakyr replied.
"But I don't want to be different! I want to be a normal Deimos just like you!"
"You're a Deimos, Darc. Just because you don't look like any normal Deimos doesn't make you any less of one."
Darc simply looked ahead, falling silent.
"Father… do you know what happened to mother?"
Windalf froze. He didn't expect him to ask about Nafia so soon…
"Darc… all I'm going to say is that… there's somethings in life we don't deserve to know. Now come on, don't ask such questions. We need to find a place to stay for the night."
"O-okay…"
It was like this every night; lurk around a place, eat and drink water, then sleep. It wasn't the best childhood in the world whenever Darc looked back…
But as long as hybrid had his father, the father who would sometimes play with him whenever he needed to let go of the stresses of life, the father who would tell him stories to lull him to sleep, the father who made sure his son ate first before he did, it was all okay.