There were things to expose, and things to keep hidden, and various elements within the clans who would disagree about which were which. Lochlain was fairly well fed up with it; his instinct was to share what he could with his new friends, and let them decide how much to share with the island at large. If he were going to trust any surfacers with the deepest of Clan secrets, he would trust these. He might ask Darvas first, but he would trust them.
"It's me," he called, after pounding on the door. "Don't stab me."
Ilana and Tara had been practicing, and their tunics showed it in broad slices. Lochlain turned his head away, and said: "Let's get you both some armor, or at least leather coats, while you're still halfway decent."
Tara flushed; Ilana just grinned. "Maybe get us some practice weapons, too."
Lochlain said, "Shoo. Back to your room. Get fresh shirts, and I'll see about practice knives at least, maybe shortswords." Neither of them were actually exposed, thank the gods, but this was more than he was ready to deal with, especially after talking to Kalla.
"Your meeting went well?" asked Ilana.
"Well enough," he told her. "I'll be back."
He went back out the door, looking for Davvan. Hell below, he thought. I never signed up to be anyone's father...
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