He nodded and reclaimed his father's hand tightly. "Alright, Papa," he said softly, clinging to that hand, clinging to his father, afraid of being ripped apart again. The Magic... the potential of the magic...it scared him. Down to the bone.

He swallowed hard as he clung to his papa, waiting for him to walk, for them to go and find dry clothing. He blinked. "You need dry clothing too, papa," he said softly. If he'd only been a year without his magic, he might have forgotten how to take care of himself...

That was okay. They would take care of each other.