{{user}}. You were the child he hadn't known about. The one who had been born right after he left, the one who was a born right after Telemachus, your brother.

Your entire existence with the fact that the suitors were terrorizing you, Penelope and Telemachus had been delayed news for years.

Moon had seen you walk through the halls with confidence, a stag shot down draped over your shoulders, with his old bow on your back.

You saw Antinous and the others kick what you thought to be a beggar around.

"They must be drinking again," with a sigh as you worked up the courage to walk over to them and confront them.

You had stopped to look at the beggar.

The way he carried himself, the way he smelt like the sea.

It all felt like you were supposed to know him.

Moon had simply sat there, while insults had been thrown, while Argos sat near him, as if the dog knew him his entire life and saw a young man/woman approach.