Both the boys raced down the hill and started running in circles around him.
"YAY! FATHER IS HERE!" they screamed in unison as loudly as their little bodies possibly could, alerting the others that were still playing under the tree.
The rest of the group stood beside Praesul waiting for him.
The one they called father was a middle-aged man with short dark hair. He had a handsome visage but not one that would make him stand out in a crowd. He was neither very tall nor muscular, or at least it was difficult to tell under the loose white robe he was wearing.
He smiled at the two boys hanging from his legs trying to pat them on the head.
"Shh, not so loud," he whispered, and only then did the boys notice there was a child in his arms. A 4 or 5-year-old sleeping boy.
Both the boys stopped and pointed at the child, "Father, who is that?"
"From now he will be your youngest brother," he answered.