A tense silence hung in the room. The only sound was that of scurrying water as Striker dipped and squeezed a small towel in a bowl to wipe the dirt and dried blood from Jake. The impling was covered in bruises, remnants of the little 'quarrel' from a few hours back. Jake would wince and bite his lip as the soaping water cleaned and disinfected his wounds.
He dare not complain, however. His father hadn't said anything yet, but Jake could tell that he was disappointed.
After what seemed like hours, Striker finished cleaning the last sore spot. "Ready to tell me what happened?" he inquired in a surprisingly calm voice.
"Are you mad, daddy?" Jake asked in a tiny voice.
"Tell me what happened, boy. Then I'll decide if I should be angry or not."
Jake looked down. "... They started it. I wasn't doin' anythin' to them, but Boris is always pickin' on me. I tried to ignore him, but then he brought up..."
"What?"
"Boris started rubbin' in my face that I don't have a mama..." Striker went silent. Jake sniffled. "He even called mom a 'whore'... I c-couldn't help it-"
Jake was interrupted by a finger on his lips. Striker's frown had softened considerably.
"I understand that, Jake. I don't like people talkin' shit about yer mama either. But ye shouldn't stoop down to that brat's level, yer better than that, my boy. Ye should save their strength for fights that are actually worth it."
"Even if they're talking shit about someone I care about?"
"Ya know, if someone bullies ya it's cause they're either jealous 'cause you have somethin' they can only wish to have, or they're ventin' off on other people 'cause their home life is a wreck. I've heard of this Boris brat a few times; he might have both his parents, but they ain't exactly a happy family..." Striker trailed off.
"What do you mean?"
"Well, how did Boris react when his dad arrived on the scene?"
Jake thought for a moment, trying to remember any details. "I think he looked a bit frightened."
"And why do you think that is?"
It took a while, but it finally dawned on Jake. "Oh."
"I'm not tellin' ya to feel sorry for that kid. Sure, it's not nice, but it sure doesn't give 'im right to pick on other people."
"Dad... Ye'd never hit me, would you?"
The cowboy placed a hand on his son's shoulder. "I'd never even think about it, my boy." Striker gave the impling a playful grin. "But I can show ya some fightin' tricks if that kid keeps messin' with ya."