Harold blinked, and almost laughed at the thought of the god of wine being able to drink alcohol.  Almost; he didn't want Mr. D making good on his earlier threat.  "Uh, yeah, that'll be fine.  Sorry."  He sipped at his coke, not wanting to anger the god.  "No, they never said anything to me.  In fact, I don't think they intended on sending me here, if it wasn't for that...that incident."  Harold told Chiron about the incident, how there was a commotion out back one night, and his father had gone out with a baseball bat.  About the sounds of a fight that ensued, the sounds of wings beating into the air, and his father coming in, clawed up and bleeding.  "They never did tell me what happened, but I think that has to do with why I'm here."<br/><br/>He looked down at the brace around his leg, smiling, unable to keep the pride from his voice.  "Yep, all my design and handiwork.  Not bad work for a twelve year old, wouldn't you say?  Though, I have refined it over the years as I got older and smarter.  Keeps me from limping as badly as I would with a cane.  I just wish it could do something about the pain."