Osweald pondered the circumstance of his comrades, Jacen lamenting over his family’s lack of interest, and Linfors appeared to gloat when he received the cute little basket from his family. Granted, he had been through training with these two, and even beaten a huge Half Orc, but he couldn’t help but think they may have not fully dropped their pairs yet. They just needed to suck it up, and walk the road before them. It wasn’t going to walk itself! On the other hand, there was Cohen. Osweald was still trying to figure him out, he had enjoyed the warm atmosphere of Cohen’s family, and you can’t exactly fault the guy to visit his family since we were in town. As well, doing chores for the clergy reminded him of younger days when he learned discipline. The good, home-cooked meal spoke for itself, and the soft bed to sleep on. Well, they were his friends, they had accepted him for who he was inside, not who he was outside. Maybe he was just jealous that he did not have a family to look to, and fight for… maybe he wanted to speak of the grandiose keep that his family lives in, and the integrity and honor they hold throughout the Kingdom. All Osweald remembered of his “Da”, was those cold, white eyes, and the harsh, bass voice, and the strong Dwarven fists that seemed to always mean a beating. But those strong, Dwarven fists were no match for the arrows, and swords. “Ma” never stopped him, never held Osweald afterwards, just dropped a cold bucket of water over his head, and sent him to bed. No, they both deserved it, and the Watch was all he had now, maybe not close enough to resemble him as brothers, but maybe cousins. Yeah, cousins, they weren’t so bad after all. But then again, maybe all three of them needed a swift kick in the sack to help them drop faster.