He nods slowly in understanding. He'd been lucky too. A lot of people treated him like any other person, and he had the luck of having a British father and thus lighter skin than most of his people. When his lighter skin wasn't seen as a virtue, however, he was less for not being one or the other, called a half-breed far more often than he was called a savage. His father received some kind of respect for 'getting a taste of the forest fruit', but he, who had never chosen it, didn't receive even the most basic of courtesies. Not to mention how the colonists treated his people as a whole.

If one were to compare him and Charles, he's certain he'd be treated better nonetheless.

Everyone at the homestead were different. Those he'd helped, or those who had simply found an opportunity to build something. They saw everyone as simply people, who loved and hurt and had their own thoughts and beliefs, and no one was considered less worth than any other. One would think that is simply to be expected, but it seems to be something rare and invaluable.

"So you stayed."