Inari has gotten herself entirely wrapped around both of them in her haste to play with Matilda, and Wren, watching Dylan as he talks, glances away long enough to roll his eyes at her and crouch down to unclip her leash and scoop her into his arms, freeing the two of them from the leash.

He nods, seriously as Dylan explains. "I'm sorry," he says genuinely. "I -- don't know how I would have reacted to something like that. My father -- well, I never knew him long enough to be frightened, or not, of him. But seeing a vision of him, if I knew it was him, wouldn't have gone over well. So I can't imagine that." He doesn't have any judgment for an adult being terrified of their parents. He's known enough terrible people, and people who've survived terrible people, not to be fazed at all.

It does concern him, though; he likes Dylan. Maybe it's not his business, but Wren's never been good at backing off politely. "Is he still in your life?"