Blackfeather Woods Think of those autographs I'll sign: Good luck to ya'

They deserve their own jon-sansa moment u.u

Potema turned to look at Damien with a smile, setting the field for Damien's own response. He could not avoid seeing his mother in Potema's only blue eye, so full of knowledge and passion, yet so calm and penetrating. Weren't it for the brightness of her pelt, and the tragedy her eye suffered, she would be Meldresi's clone, a young version of the night sorceress.

The smile brought that side of Damien, the one only those tied to him by blood would ever get to know. He needed not words to tell Potema that this place was not the same without her, for she would have, by now, noticed how the lack of a true priest affected the forest. He walked forth, letting his flank skim across her pelt, and landed a gentle lick on her cheek followed by a brotherly nudge of his nose. In that precise moment a Will o' the wisp lit up, hovering over the swamp waters drawing Damien's attention. The rush of memories came to him as well, the ones of mother bringing him and his siblings to the Grotto to play while she gathered herbs for her stash. And then it occurred to him right there, something that he hadn't thought about before.

"Sister," he said, looking back at the blood princess with nostalgic eyes, "did the priests at Hag Fen teach you some kind of magic that could... Allow me... To talk to her?"