Harrowheart seizes. The orc is her mother? Not literally, but that’s not the point! Light, how would he feel if someone asked him—

A small noise ekes out of Harrow’s throat as he stares into the middle distance. There’s got to be a way to come back from this, right? There’s got to be some kind of solution. Think, Harrowheart! Think!

His gaze slowly shifts to The Orc, where he lingers for a moment before muttering, “You look good for your age.”