[It puts them back on even footing, at least: not a princess and a whatever Bard is right now, but people worrying about their kids while stuck in this frozen ghost town. A straggling band of orcs, a vicious storm, or even a poorly-timed flu could take any or all of his children this very night, and he wouldn't even have the means to find out.
But, as he reminds himself every night and as Mirena is reminding him now, there is also no reason to assume the worst. Not when Sigrid can turn anything into a blunt instrument, Bain has proven he can use a sword, Tilda is slippery as an eel, and all the peoples of the region are working together again. His children are as well-off as they could hope to be in his absence, truly.
Bard pulls himself together when Mirena tugs at his arm--perhaps a little too familiar, but for now they are friends in their shared suffering, so he lets it go unmentioned--and sets aside his bowl, which he seems to have emptied without noticing. He is still cold despite it, so the fire will be welcome, and he leaves the kitchen to seek it out.]
Thank you. I would say I'm not usually this grim, but back home I'm a very unpopular drunk.
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But, as he reminds himself every night and as Mirena is reminding him now, there is also no reason to assume the worst. Not when Sigrid can turn anything into a blunt instrument, Bain has proven he can use a sword, Tilda is slippery as an eel, and all the peoples of the region are working together again. His children are as well-off as they could hope to be in his absence, truly.
Bard pulls himself together when Mirena tugs at his arm--perhaps a little too familiar, but for now they are friends in their shared suffering, so he lets it go unmentioned--and sets aside his bowl, which he seems to have emptied without noticing. He is still cold despite it, so the fire will be welcome, and he leaves the kitchen to seek it out.]
Thank you. I would say I'm not usually this grim, but back home I'm a very unpopular drunk.