The news about his father was a terrible shock. As Ghent attempted to come to terms with what this information meant, Elayra became defensive about his choice of wording.
	"They're just mindless zombies," Ghent finished for her, returning the glare. "How is that [i]not[/i] crazy?" 
	Before they could engage in another argument, Drust took over. The knight seemed irritated at first, but he was good enough to share a bit of history regarding how Hatter got his name.
	 Biting his tongue to keep from interrupting, Ghent shut up and listened. He felt like the world's biggest idiot after the knight referred to the Mad Hatter as fictitious. 	
	"Oh...I thought..." Ghent shook his head, mentally kicking himself for using Disney movies as a guide to Wonderland. The mix-up was an honest mistake, but it sounded so stupid to say aloud. "I thought Hatter was his real name," he mumbled, following Drust's gaze to the forest ahead.
	Seeing nothing new, Ghent turned his attention back to Drust. The knight had more information about Hatter than he realized. 
	"I guess the name's not [i]that [/i]bad." Feeling oddly touched by the tale, Ghent changed his mind. His initial reaction was to think the name silly, but it grew on him over time and use. Plus, the image of an eleven-year-old Hatter sporting his favorite hat was undeniably cute.
	"I mean, at least it doesn't sound stupid." Ghent shot Elayra an accusatory glare for the name she used for him. 
	He nodded in agreement when Drust called the name dismal, freezing mid-nod when he was hit with the newest -- and possibly strangest -- order yet.
	Ghent shifted uncomfortably. He didn't like Drust bringing up his being vinifcium. The truth about his bloodline didn't make him feel special, it made him feel weird. Not only that, but now his name was taboo for outsiders.
	"But..." Intimidated by Drust's steely stare, Ghent caved. "Yeah...understood." The boy didn't sound too pleased about it, but he lost the nerve to object. 
	Sighing at his newest list of misfortunes, Ghent squeezed the bottom half of his sleeve in an attempt to speed the drying process. He was enlightened, but disturbed. His father was one of the Forsaken, and now he couldn't even use his own name. As if to answer his concerns, Elayra told him not to worry.
	 Ghent's eyes narrowed. She was smiling again. He braced himself for an insult, and Elayra didn't disappoint. Sure enough, she referred to him as Featherhead. Twice.
	"Listen, Blondie," Ghent turned to face her, voice hushed. He wanted to keep the arguing between them, but it was impossible with Drust right there. "You'd better not call me that in front of anyone, because I don't want the name to stick!" After hearing about his father's permanent alias, he had more reason than ever to object to the name. 
	"At least 'Blondie' fits," Ghent went on, folding his arms across his chest. "'Featherhead' sounds dumb, which I'm not," he stooped to retie his sneaker, scowling up at the girl for good measure. "Even Holland Tweedle sounds better than that!"