For a moment, Dylan gives all of his attention to Rafael, one corner of his mouth ticking upwards into a tentative smile as he makes eye contact. A nod follows, then he turns back to Caroline, the smile fading as something sympathetic creeps in behind his eyes.

"I got ... five kids, at home." He uses the term 'kids' loosely, includes both Merritt and Fuller in that number, despite the fact that they're grown men. They're also new to being werewolves and they're his, even if they're not his, so they count. "One of 'em was in the system, too. Two of the others ... " Probably should have been, given how abusive Daniel's parents were and how neglectful Henley's were.

He shakes his head faintly before he continues, "I know how rough it can be." A beat. "And I know, personally, how much it sucks, losing your friends." Considering his mother cut him off from all of his father's friends, from other werewolves. He wonders how much different his life would have been, if he'd had them to help. "But, at the risk of sounding like one've those self-help motivational posters, it gets better."

He'll find his family, his pack. Dylan did.