A vein on Shenon’s face pulsated with pure impetuosity. She darted over to her son and firmly latched onto him with as much power as a vise. She wanted to shake him violently until all of that nonsensical babble became so scrambled that it oozed out of his ear holes. Instead of scolding him however, she remarked sternly through gritted teeth, “To your bedroom this instant.”
“But Papa didn’t finish the-“
“Now!” she snapped.
Grom never had to think twice about obeying commands given to him when Shenon looked as furious as she did now. Rather than make ineffectual protests that would only grant him greater punitive gains, he scurried away on swift legs as soon as he could work himself free from her tight grasp. Once arriving at his bedroom, Grom shut the door a little louder than usual in order to demonstrate his disapproval of such unfair treatment.
“You shouldn’t keep treating him like a little boy, Shen, or he’ll only resent you for it,” Bornen advised from the security of the gaudy chair.
“And you,” she retorted sharply as she stomped her way over to the fireplace,” this is entirely your fault! Filling Grom’s head with all of those bedtime stories and wild fantasies . . . he’s far too impressionable for that sort of thing, I think. But I won’t tolerate it any longer, not under this roof. From now on you’ll refrain from speaking about any delusions of your ‘legacy,’ because it poisons his mind with silly ideas. Do you hear me? Find some other dwarf to do your adventuring, not my boy.” She concluded resolutely, arms akimbo, “Mark my words Bornen Stonefeather, and mark them well; Grom is never, I repeat never, going to be an adventurer!”