"Well?" Inric pauses by the closed door and looks at his nephew. Anvar turns in a dramatic flurry of white hair and angry distress. "How could you?!" Inric moves back involuntarily. Anvar leans in, not giving him a chance to respond. "Adopt an ignorant child from a nameless village?!" He lays a hand on his chest for full effect. "You have a family!" "I have not adopted Tiero," Inric says, after leaving enough time to make sure Anvar's histrionics were over. "He is here to train the bookwyrm kits. As I am sure Magistra Colle would have told you, had you asked." Anvar looks down, scowling. "Was that what you wanted to speak to me about?" "No."