It certainly isn't ideal, but for Gunnar, even the thought of raising a half-breed is more appealing than raising Kurt ever was. He hadn't wanted a child in the first place. If he'd had a choice, he would've shipped the infant off to be with his irresponsible mother the moment she took off. But propriety demanded otherwise. Gunnar's own parents wouldn't stand for him abandoning his unwanted son. So he'd been saddled with the unruly child, mercurial and headstrong, a constant embarrassment.

Perhaps with this girl, he can do it right. Using discipline from an early enough age, keep her compliant with wolfsbane and the threat of her parent's safety, keeping her firmly in line. Gunnar hums thoughtfully, pulling gently from his pipe, considering the girl. She already looks frightened. Good. "In that case, I am certain a combination of both will be sufficient," he says, before looking up at Miles.

He also looks distressingly human. He'd known savages could disguise themselves, take on a more humanoid form, but he'd had no idea they could pass so convincingly. No wonder folks are paranoid about beastmen. With how human Miles looks, anyone could be a feral. "And what exactly will you do with my son? I need no details," he hurries to add, uncomfortable enough with the situation as it is. "Just an idea of whether I should expect a burial. I don't know how your kind does things, but Kurt was raised a Christian. He will be buried like one."