Despite his daughter's words, Keiro couldn't resist the feeling that the elf gave him. Imminent danger. She couldn't be trusted. Was it something about her eyes? Elves always had an odd way of looking at humans, but that was natural. All species had different ways of looking at each other, reflecting how they held said species in their own esteems. No. It was something else.
It was instinct, he realized as he cut the loaf of bread into as many slices as half the load could stand and smeared the sliced bread with butter, bought from a farmer in town. He rarely used it, but he had promised Korra that they would use the butter tonight as a special treat. Before, of course, she had traipsed home with a guest.
He pulled out three wooden bowls and ladled soup into them in an efficient fashion, placing them on the table, not spilling a drop along with a fork and a spoon, both made of steel. Just as he was finished, Korra stepped inside followed by the elf, still half asleep, by all counts. He smiled when she spoke," We aren't 'allowing' you to do anything," He grunted," You are your own woman, and certainly not at my beck and call," Stop talking, you windbag, he thought," Soup's warm and the butter is tasty with the bread. Eat, and if you still feel tired, we shall bid you goodnight," He followed his own advice, taking a seat and closing his eyes and making the sign of the Sacred Claw over his chest in silent prayer before beginning to eat. Korra imitated him.