"We look out for each other." Thatcher said before he realized those words had rolled from his lips. If it weren't for his daughter. Thatcher wasn't sure if he would have survived his late wife's death. Krystana anchored him to this reality when Thatcher had been at his lowest. She had been the one who pulled him out from those dark deep depths of despair. The edges of his mouth curled slightly upward into a bit of a smirk when Murk chuckled lightly, and then offered a few words in response. The guy did have a point there. Everyone needed a vice or two to make living on this planet a little more enjoyable.
Thatcher chuckled at that. When Murk referred to Krystana as a tot. His daughter had passed on over into her teens, and he was sure she'd be quite offended by being labeled as a tot. "A suggestion for you, Murk. Don't ever use the word tot around my daughter when referring to her." It didn't much bother him, but Krystana was another story. There would be dire consequences toward anyone who called Krystana a tot or child. Granted there really wouldn't be much to fear from a 13 year old, but Krystana could be a force to be reckoned with. Or at least as much as a teenage girl could be.
"That minion movie is one she's been waiting to see, so a movie night just may be happening soon." If possibly, Thatcher would try his best to turn that movie night into a bit of father/daughter bonding time. Or at least as much as his daughter would tolerate. Krystana was slowing breaking away from being his little girl. An image he was having difficulty in accepting.