Oh, young. [On Alucard's face, there's a flicker of something softer. Fonder. He won't get into the particulars of aging yet, although it'll come up soon. Instead he closes his eyes, savoring the memory to himself. His mother's face of bafflement, confirming what she just saw. The grin on his father's face, knowing that another of his skills had been passed down. A tiny white wolf cub to contrast with the great, hulking black wolf that ran through the Carpathians.

He shakes his head, pulling himself out of that moment.] It was an accident, and then I learned how to do it on purpose. I must have looked to been two and a half? Three? [Looked.] Learning I could fly was the larger problem. I could float up, but not down, and the rooms had high ceilings. It happened during the daylight once and--

[Yeah. It was a disaster. One that gets the faintest of laughs.]