Carlisle places the last of the sticks into place, his eyes affixed on his work rather than on his partner. There is something to be said about that kind of advice coming from someone who seems so averse to being different, so troubled by the mere thought of there being a version of himself that does not conform to his strict notions of what is acceptable for the society in which he was raised. Perhaps Algidus is aberrant, but Carlisle refuses to believe that makes him inherently bad, no matter how grief-stricken Glacius may be by the very concept.

But Glacius does ultimately know what it is like to not entirely fit in with those around him, and more importantly, he is trying to be encouraging. Thus, Carlisle holds his tongue on his argumentative thoughts.

"It is," he agrees, offering his partner a lopsided smile. "Disappointed as he may have been, I believe he wanted the best for me. They both did." His father was another matter entirely. "And perhaps he was gifted with the foresight that once ran in our blood, as it has indeed come in handy more than once, particularly here. I ought not complain."