"I do," Rhocanth agreed, resting a hand on the cool bark. Bark was a great deal like bronto skin, with its pits and cracks and lumps. Periodically he gazed back over at the camp, but he felt mostly comfortable enough not to bristle at every sudden breeze. "I owe him a great deal. He is some twenty odd years older than me, but he humored me as a child and was very kind to me. As for power..." He paused to shrug casually. His fingers picked at the bark a little, curious about it. "He was already well established by the time I was born. I was happier spending my time in the Shaperate. It's... hmm. We keep all of our records there. Scholars work there. I did a great deal of writing and research."
When Imenry took her turn to describe her childhood, Rhocanth folded his arms, tilting his head at her to listen. He nodded in places, seeming interested. "That's wonderful for you, that you had such a strong relationship with your father. Where did you grow up? What did your father do for a living? I'd really like to know what sort of man he was."
At being accused of being coy, he shifted in place, his shoulders lifting slightly, and he smiled soft and closed-mouthed. The mention of Cormac broke his resolve and he finally laughed openly. "Ah, is that not the same story told since time immemorial? If I sway her heart and take daddy's girl away from him, he'll kill me. If I reject daddy's girl and make her miserable, he'll kill me. I do believe it is inevitable, and so I won't worry so much about him. I respect what he does for her, actually."