He tries to do the best he can for Helen regardless. Helen, in turn, hugs him a lot and doesn't fuss when he cries on her. They make a good team that way.
Kalavar hops off her shoulder and perches on the ground as a huge black bird; Helen hardly has to reach down to pet her head.
"What's the matter with him?" Shura asks Helen.
"He's just sad," says Helen. "Sometimes he's just sad."
"Not about anything?" says Shura. "Aren't there doctors for being sad not about anything?"
"I am big," says Kalavar, preening her long black feathers.
"Because he doesn't want a doctor to do anything about it," says Helen. "He's like that."
"Just peculiar," says Shura. "A lot of things about your dad come down to him just being peculiar, don't they."
"It would bother me if my dad was very peculiar and I didn't know why. Do you know why or do you not care about knowing?"
"I'm not sure there is a reason," says Helen. "I think maybe he just is."
"Yeah, that would bug me if it was mine," says Shura. "But my dad is very normal."
"Then everything should be fine as long as your dad and my spinach don't decide to switch places."
"I wonder if you're so good of magic because of your own peculiarity or if you just are. That's a thing people can just be."
"I think that's a just-is," Helen says consideringly. "Or maybe it's because I worked so hard when I was little so I could learn runes early and bake cakes in the wilderness. So it's indirectly because of being peculiar."
She laughs. "Not unexpected like surprising, unexpected like - unusual."