Without certain events since past detrimenting his ability to do so, Echo would be riding on his father's shoulders at the moment. However, said events had occurred, and thusly he was walking beside the man, hand-in-hand, wearing a pair of flannel pants and a matching little button-up that looked more like pyjamas than clothes; not that it really mattered anyway, as over those things he was wearing layers upon layers of wintery clothing, much to his displeasure. Gently, the small boy stomped his booted feet, tightening his grip on his father's fingers. "I don' like wearin' all these cloves!!"
Peony would have likely snapped at Echo's complaint had he not still be reeling in relief that his son was still alive. Regardless, the boy's constant complaints about social requirements were starting to wear on the Eilian's nerves, and so it was with a slightly exasperated sigh that he answered his son. "I know, Echo, but if you didn't have them on, you wouldn't be able to come with me. And I know that you don't want to let this present slip out of your sight, do you?" He smiled cheekily as he teased Echo, but it was true: the little nix had barely let go of the instrument since it was given to him. It was completely understandable, given his genetics, but it was still funny.
Echo giggled cutely at the response, sticking his tongue out at his father in response, proof that it was very much true that he didn't want the violin going anywhere that he couldn't see it. A smile followed the action, and it was a good sight to see at this point. Much of the swelling on his face had gone away and a good portion of the bruising was only yellow instead of the myriad of colours it had been a week or so earlier. The only thing that remained were the large gashes -now scabbed over- that still needed to be bandaged, and everything that was hidden under his clothes. He grew quiet as they reached the music store, and remained as quiet when they entered to nothing but the tinkling of a bell and, otherwise, complete and utter silence.
