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The mortal man was still frozen, his chest rising and falling too fast, his dark eyes flicking between the boy and Ilya like he couldn’t decide what to do first. The bond between them, father and son, was a taut, golden thread, fraying at the edges with panic.
Ilya tilted his head slightly, watching. Waiting.
The boy, oblivious to the tension, tugged at Ilya’s cloak again. “You’re tall,” he informed him, matter-of-fact. “Like a tree.”
Ilya stared.
Then, against his will, he huffed; a soft, startled sound that might have been a laugh, if he remembered how to do such things properly.
“Da,” he agreed, solemn. “Like tree.”
Alt.
Shane Hollander loses track of his son. He finds him with a god, because of course he does.Series
- Part 3 of Jolene's Hollanov One-Shots
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