Uriel rolled his eyes heavenward and scoffed back, defending himself as he never used to, “I’m a grown man and can make my own choices. Let me make my mistakes. How else am I to learn?” He gestured widely with his hands. “Besides, I thought you all hated me anyways.” He grumbled. It sure had felt like that sometimes.

The big man took his sister’s coat from her and gingerly hung it on the coat rack that gleamed with fresh lacquer. “Normally, in this household, we hang our own coats… though I don’t mind hanging Katherine’s coat, she is a mighty independent woman and insists I don’t do everything. It’s a farm, Nesah, there are no servants. This is what I want to do with my life. This is what makes me happy.” His gaze was soft and honest, and there was also a wounded bear look about him. "Would you like some water or tea, sister?"