There he was, touching him again, making Rhys go all still and quiet. He didn't like it. Not even a little bit. If it had been his mom, or even Henry, it would have been fine, but there was just no way a stranger raked his fingers through his hair. Green eyes wide, the baby Tremere listened to what the other kindred had to say, his body almost shaking. Oh, that little streak of courage? It was fading fast. That was, until he was called a little stray. Yeah, he was a stray. Had been... An angry blush spread across his cheeks, very slight but there.
What did he feel? Well, Tristian had already started walking again, leaving Rhys no choice but to walk with him, seeing as they were still attached. Henry hadn't abandoned him on purpose, he'd promised to be back. Him being gone wasn't his choice, he never left the city. He'd heard so from other people. And yet, here the other man was, dragging all this back to the surface right as he was starting to think on other things. Here he was, just dragging them along, as if it were a whole joke that Rhys wasn't in on.
"I'm not a stray." Eventually, he would have to remember he wasn't a little thing anymore, afraid of his own shadow. He'd have to remember he was a vampire who could do blood magic.