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Description
The baby was crying. Good. It was an improvement from the uncomfortable mewling he was doing earlier.

He was hungry. Shylock wasn't so out-of-touch that he would miss that. Still, Shylock wasn't sure what to give him. It wasn't like he had milk for him. Wynsyph was so tantalizingly close, but it was stupid taking the already ill-looking child out into the pouring rain.

Almost by instinct, he had run home to a cave not far from the one he himself was raised in.

Would his father be ashamed of him? His father already had so much clawing feverishly at his mind, the idea of burdening him with a child that may not survive made Shylock's heart clench. Chii, the child might not survive...

Shylock grit his teeth, trying to stay calm despite the baby's fitful crying. He wasn't loud, and Shylock wished he would be. How strong were his lungs? How long had he been out there?

He couldn't let his son die. He couldn't.

Swallowing back tears, Shylock shifted so that he was curled around the baby, using his magic to heat his body and hopefully keep him warm. The baby kneaded at his chest, looking for a pouch and milk that just wasn't there.

If this baby died, he deserved to do so with a name, even if Shylock couldn't- wouldn't?- speak it.

Jes. I'll fight for you. I promise.
--------------------------------------------------------------

Jes gets a name and a way-in-over-his-head-but-he's-trying-he-promises dad.

Little Fang (mentioned) belongs to star--burnt

MAX WYNS

Description
The baby was crying. Good. It was an improvement from the uncomfortable mewling he was doing earlier.

He was hungry. Shylock wasn't so out-of-touch that he would miss that. Still, Shylock wasn't sure what to give him. It wasn't like he had milk for him. Wynsyph was so tantalizingly close, but it was stupid taking the already ill-looking child out into the pouring rain.

Almost by instinct, he had run home to a cave not far from the one he himself was raised in.

Would his father be ashamed of him? His father already had so much clawing feverishly at his mind, the idea of burdening him with a child that may not survive made Shylock's heart clench. Chii, the child might not survive...

Shylock grit his teeth, trying to stay calm despite the baby's fitful crying. He wasn't loud, and Shylock wished he would be. How strong were his lungs? How long had he been out there?

He couldn't let his son die. He couldn't.

Swallowing back tears, Shylock shifted so that he was curled around the baby, using his magic to heat his body and hopefully keep him warm. The baby kneaded at his chest, looking for a pouch and milk that just wasn't there.

If this baby died, he deserved to do so with a name, even if Shylock couldn't- wouldn't?- speak it.

Jes. I'll fight for you. I promise.
--------------------------------------------------------------

Jes gets a name and a way-in-over-his-head-but-he's-trying-he-promises dad.

Little Fang (mentioned) belongs to star--burnt

MAX WYNS