Revenge of the Dads
It was a difficult feeling even after his years with the Islanders to let others do the work for him. He didn't like at all that Abra and Dan were acting like some sort of bait to distract the ghoulish man Higgs. Rhysand was not a fan of this plan at all. Yet as his beloved fiance liked to point out: only plans with eleven steps were suitable. This plan had five.
Hardly enough.
Rhysand prepared himself for any sort of battle eventuality by dressing in his sturdy Illyrian leather armor. His wings stretched tall once outside of the mansion they called home, clawing toward the ceiling with relief after being stuffed away into pocket space for so long. He pressed a hand down his chest and sighed heavily before that same hand ran nervously over his hair to slick it back. It was time for a haircut. Turning, wings folding down comfortably as he did so, he await his fellow father so they could be on their way.