Illidan looked up just in time for a small child to launch himself onto his father's lap. There was a moment where Illidan awkwardly looked from the child, to Tyrande, then back again, as though he wasn't sure what to do. And to be honest he really wasn't. For all his efforts, he couldn't help but come off as aloof and awkward around the child. Not out of a lack of affection, just more of a lack of ways to show it. He had little memory of his own parents, and his childhood was spent living up to the expectations that came withhis unique eyes, and taking care of his brother. With Tyrande affection was easier. Do as she says. Be strong enough to protect her and their people. With the child though... well he couldn't take orders from a two year old, and the kid seemed to care more about finger painting and what was for lunch than Illidan's military achievements. neither of which were things he excelled at.

So even two years down the line, he was once again faced with the little beast that managed to shake his massive reserves of self confidence. And for whatever reason the little beast was wet and had a very peculiar smell to him. He child on his knee and was promptly told that he 'needed him to get the thing.' A 'thing' the child was probably pointing at, that he could not see. 'Blind' was apparently still too advanced a concept for the young elf.

"Nevermind that, just what have you gotten yourself into?"

And just as he felt little fingers slip under his blindfold, he felt the wet substance on his face. He tried to pull away enough to keep the blindfold from slipping off, but in the process was getting covered in... something.

Hmmm. Nope. This line of questioning has gone beyond his level of parental qualifications. Needs back up.

"...Tyrande!"
Unbeknownst to Illidan, a little certain someone felt like being like his dad and had found something green so paint all over himself with, and now just needed the blindfold for the final touch.