Sometimes it seemed that Trapis alone was trying to care for all the hopeless creatures in our corner of Tarbean. In return we loved him with a silent ferocity that only animals can match. If anyone had ever raised a hand to Trapis, a hundred howling children would have torn them to bloody scraps in the middle of the street.
- The Name of the Wind, Chapter 21: Basement, Bread, and Bucket, pgs 157-158
I felt a sudden lump form in my throat. He knew me. I can’t hope to explain to you how much of a relief it was. Trapis was the closest thing I had to a family. The thought of him not knowing me had been horrifying.
“I don’t have time to run an errand, Trapis,” I said hesitantly. “I’m leaving. I’m heading inland, to Imre.”
“Are you then?” he asked, then paused and gave me a second, closer look. “Well then, I guess you are.”
Of course. Trapis never saw the clothes, only the child inside them.
....
He came forward and gathered me into a clumsy hug, his beard tickling the side of my face. “I’m always glad to see one of you get away,” he said softly to me. “I know you’ll do just fine for yourself, but you can always come back if you need to.”
- The Name of the Wind, Chapter 32: Coppers, Cobblers and Crowds, pg 233
After half an hour of searching, I finally found the burned-out building with a basement underneath. I made my way down the stairs and through the long hallway to a damp room. Trapis was still there, barefoot and wearing the same tattered robe, tending to his hopeless children in the cool dark below the city streets.
He recognized me. Not as other people would, not as a budding hero out of stories. Trapis had no time for such things. He remembered me as the smudgy, starveling boy who fell down his stairs fever-sick and crying one winter night. You could say I loved him even more for that.
- The Wise Man’s Fear: Chapter 147: Debts, pg 1066