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The first thing Galning had done when the band returned was go in search of a bath, and then some mint. It was not until after the feast welcoming the band back that he had been reminded of all the family he had left behind him.

He probably wouldn't even have thought of it then except he was able to observe the greeting his cousin received when he and his family were reunited. It had made Galning feel that something was missing in his own celebrations. It was then, and only then, that Galning recalled he had left his young son in the pride, assuming that he would be cared for by his relatives, even though Atheris was only a thrall. Timmo would surely have taken him in.

Unfortunately, Galning did not see Yollalunta anywhere at the feast, and he was too hungover the next day to go looking for him, but the day after that it was the very first thing he did after breakfast and a bath.

Fastklump had not bothered to go to the welcoming feast that had been thrown to honor Captain Ruzanski and his band. It was nothing against the captain. Personally, Fast was very impressed by his accomplishment and more than a little swayed by the romantic story behind the quest. The fact was, he wasn't in any sort of mood to see his father toasted and feasted as if he was some kind of hero. As far as Fast was concerned, Galning was just some a*****e who stole his son away from his mother and then abandoned him in a strange pride just when he had barely begun to learn how things worked.

At some point, Fast knew he would have to confront his father, but he wanted it to be in a time and manner of his choosing. He had given this a great deal of thought, actually, and he had decided that he wanted to fight his father. Win or lose didn't matter. Frankly, Fast knew he was not a very good fighter and his father had more experience and was a beserker, so it wasn't likely Fast would win. He would still have the chance to sink his claws and teeth into his father's flesh and hurt him. That was all Fast wanted.

After a great deal of searching and asking around, Galning had learned where his son was living. He was not living with his cousins, as Galning had anticipated. He was living on his own in an area near the crafters, and fairly far down the stronghold's slope.

at first he thought he had been misdirected, but the place did smell like he remembered Yolla smelling, sort of. The den itself was freakishly neat, he learned by poking around, and yet filled with all sorts of junk. Not the sort of junk a lion would accumulate from successful vikings, either, but the sort of junk you would expect a crafter to have. Had his son grown up into a crafter? The horror! The shame!

Well, if Yolla had decided to grow up into a flower-blooded crafter, there was nothing for it but to take him viking and make a man out of him, no matter how much the boy protested. And he would wait right here in the den until Yolla returned home to tell him so.

Fast had been told by no fewer than four people that his father was looking for him. Each of them had helpfully told Galning where his son lived, apparently, so Fast knew he could probably expect to find his father at his den when he returned to it. the temptation not to return to it, and to simply find a new den was unbelievably strong, but in the end Fast decided he rather liked his stuff and so he would have to return to his den at some point to collect his things. But he didn't have to do it right away.

Based on what he remembered about his father, Galning was not a patient lion. If he got to Fast's den and Fast wasn't there, he might wait a while for him to return, but Fast very much doubted that he would wait more than half an hour. Thus, all Fast had to do was stay away for an hour or so, just to be sure he'd given his father time to get bored and leave. It didn't cross Fast's mind that Galning was also stubborn and would probably wait all day if given sufficient incentive. He thought of his father as someone who left, and fully expected him to do so again.

Ugh. How long was the boy going to be gone? He hadn't thought to ask anyone what his son was doing with his life. He had assumed that Yolla would grow up to be a reaver like his dad, but based on this very crafty den, Galning was definitely wondering if that was the case. And if his son had decided to be an embarrassment and become a crafter, where the bloody hells was he? Weren't crafters supposed to stay in their den and craft?

It really didn't take long for Galning to grow bored and begin poking around his son's home. He took a certain amount of pride in seeing the poor quality of the items his son had presumably made. If Yolla had decided to be a crafter, he clearly wasn't any good at it, and that was a good thing. It meant that it would be that much easier to persuade him to change professions. Fighting was obviously in Yolla's blood, and he was wasting all that excellent heredity doing something he was bad at.

At no point during his explorations did Galning put anything back where he found it. He just pulled things out, examined them, and put them aside before moving on. It didn't take very long for him to mess up everything. Oops.

Eventually Fast decided he had definitely given his father sufficient time to grow bored and leave, so he headed for home. He knew, though. Even before he went into the den he knew his father had been there and - worse - his father was still there. It was pretty easy to figure out, actually. Galning was singing some horrible song that sounded like a pirate had come up with it originally.

Galning hadn't noticed him yet. Fast could still turn around and wait a little longer, and he was about to do that very thing when he head a crash and effusive swearing. At that point his love of order forced him to step in and put a stop to his father's destructive tendencies before he ruined everything. Well, before he ruined everything even more than he already had.

Fast planted himself in the entrance to the den and told his father firmly to get out. Unfortunately, his father had gone back to singing and didn't hear him over his own racket. Fast winced when he heard the sound of many small items being swept across the ground and a vein in his forehead began to throb.

"Get the ******** out of my den you taint-sniffing c**k-up before I rip your wang off and shove it up your bunghole!"

Galning started, accidentally knocking over more items, though none of them broke this time. The angry lion shouting at him sounded a little like his cousin, and maybe even a bit like himself. He smiled, proud of the fierce temperament his son was displaying.

"Yolla!" he exclaimed, turning around (crash!) and making his way out of the den. "I'm so glad to see you."

Of course, he couldn't see much of anything at first because the sun, weak and pale though it was, was still a good deal brighter than the inside of the den had been, and so he was a bit blind initially. But when he did recover his sight he was thrilled by the view presented to him. His son had grown up to be very handsome indeed, just like his dad. But more importantly, Yolla sported several impressive looking scars. He was a reaver!

Fast backpedaled. He was not surprised, particularly, by his father's cheery greeting, or even his use of the wrong name. That sort of detail wasn't the sort he figured his father would care about, just as he had (correctly) figured his father wouldn't see anything wrong with vanishing for his son's whole life and then turning up and expecting everything to be golden.

He didn't remain in retreat for long. Just long enough to settle his weight onto his haunches so that he could propel himself forward, launching himself at his father with his claws and teeth bared. The only warning he gave of his attack was to exclaim, "You self-righteous b*****d!"

Then he was on top of his father, biting, slashing, and generally doing his level best to kill him. Not that his father was letting him do it. Fast just happened to be fueled by rage and temporarily impervious to pain. Had he recognized that as a trait of a berserker, like his father, he would have been horrified.

At first Galning thought he was being hugged, despite the profanity. If his son had grown up to have a foul mouth, that was fine by him. Swearing was manly. However, it seemed his son did not know how hugs worked. Or else he had really meant all those names he'd called him and was trying to kill him. It didn't take Galning's body long to figure out which of those options was the truth, even though his head was a bit slower on the uptake.

After what was a fairly ferocious fight that left both lions bloodied and bruised, Galning finally managed to pin his son to the ground like he was a feisty thrall and insisted he explain what all this violence was about.

"Not that I see anything wrong with bonding through the martial arts, but I don't really think that's what's going on here, is it? What in the world could you possibly have to be so angry about? Haven't I done the best thing a father could do for his son, and go out to win glory for the family name while allowing you to grow up to be your own person?"

Trapped beneath his father, Fast snarled and snapped at him, but he was well and thoroughly stuck. The implication was clear that he would not be allowed up again until he had explained his attack to his father's satisfaction.

"As far as I'm concerned, you went out and won glory for yourself, because you're no father of mine. You kidnapped me, and then you abandoned me, and for the brief period of time in between you ignored me to chase after women." He seethed with rage, and it came out in his voice, completely masking the childish hurt that fueled it. "If you really wanted to help me, you could go jump off a cliff and truly leave me to live my life on my own. I want nothing to do with you."

Whether he meant this or not was anyone's guess, but in that moment he certainly did. He would have been glad to see his father drop dead on the spot. The universe was a d**k with other plans though, and Galning continued to breathe and squish his son.

Galning couldn't comprehend what he was hearing. He had done the very best thing he could think of to do for his son, and the boy had chosen to see it in the worst possible light, willfully misinterpreting everything to cast Galning as a villain. The glory-and-blood-covered reaver couldn't decide if he was more hurt or angry, rather like his son, actually. Except that unlike his son, he decided to be hurt instead of angry in the end.

"I didn't think of it that way," he apologized. "I really thought I was doing what was best for you."

In retrospect, maybe leaving on a quest that was supposed to be impossible might have given a cub the idea that he was being abandoned, but why hadn't Yolla had enough faith in his father's prowess to believe that he would return no matter what?

"I would really like to be part of your life, Yolla. You're my son."

Fast snorted. "You could have tried asking me what I wanted, instead of just assuming. But that's pretty much what you do, isn't it? Assume."

He'd assumed Fast would be better off living with him. He'd assumed Fast wouldn't mind being ignored while his dad chased women. He'd assumed Fast would be fine when his father abandoned him to go after glory. And now he was assuming Fast would just forgive him and everything would be all right.

"I go by Fast now, by the way. And I mean it when I say I want nothing to do with you, and that one day I will kill you. You're a rat b*****d who had no business destroying everything in my life. You can't just come home and start being my father again. I renounce you. Now get off of me and get out of my life."

It wasn't the first rejection Galning had ever received, but it had not occurred to him that he could be rejected by his own family. He had always believed that family had to be there for you, no matter what, and had to love you no matter how awful or stupid or awfully stupid you were. Apparently he had been mistaken.

"I'll give you some time," he said after spending a few moments trying to think of the most mature thing he could say in this situation. It took another few moments for it to occur to him to actually get off of his son and take his leave.

Even when he was walking away, Galning moved as slowly as possible, hoping that Yolla - no, Fast - would call him back and everything would be fixed, but that didn't happen. When Galning looked back over his shoulder, his son was busy straightening his den, having apparently put his father from his mind completely.