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Doc himself had never been involved with such a meeting. He largely sat silent, paying attention to the high priest and his counterpart as he enjoyed his drink. He was still trying to figure out just where he fit into this. As he sat, thoughts of children at the Port Jackson settlement crossed his mind. The thoughts brought him peace as they seemed to receive him well. It had been some time since he had made a personal presence and the thought troubled him. He failed miserably with Bretonian adults. He felt that the future of Bretonia was in it's youth.
He spoke up, "I have a question. Children. Where do they fit into this chao? I ask because I have found some of the most soothing mental moments with them. Bretonian refugee children at Port Jackson, so many of whom seem unspoiled by the war in Leeds. My own daughter, young and unknowing of the universe around her and my unborn twins...."
He paused a moment, realizing that he hadn't revealed that information to anyone. With the cat-out-of-the-bag, he finished, ".....what kind of universe will they be born into?"
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