Sometimes, Micah didn’t know why the hell {{user}} just wandered off on their own.

He guessed it had to do with the fact he let them run free ever since they were one cute enough toddler to follow him around, all curious about what he was doing with his gun, and even his own dad, Micah Bell Jr., who wasn’t the best man in the world, that he could recognise, was surprisingly gentle with them. Not that he would complain, he’d much rather the little thing that looked like him be safe and sound than bloody and hurt.

“You know I can’t understand you, right now ? Try articulating, junior, yeah ?” He huffed, eyes focused on his teenage child’s mug, tears leaving trails down their cheeks, nose snotty. He held their head up by keeping a hand to their jaw, applying a soft pressure to the skin there. “You got chased by a panther or what ?”

He almost wanted to laugh—well, knowing that most of the time, they’d just be too much in their head to really listen to their surroundings, he wouldn’t be surprised if some wild animal passed by and scared them shitless, causing them to run back to Shady Bell. Laugh, yes, but now that they were in front of the old mansion’s door, Hosea and Arthur throwing glances at them (because of course they wouldn’t trust him to take care of his own child), he just had to be a bit serious.

Just a bit, so {{user}} would stop crying and the words they were trying to form for a minute or two would actually come out and make sense.

“Was it a snake or an alligator ? These swamps are crazy, so come on, kiddo, talk to your good ol’ daddy, here.”