Neverwinter Forest and i'm missing you,

At six weeks old, the pudgy little Neverwinter raven was still highly dependent on his doting mother. Although she could, at this stage, leave her beloved boys for several hours at a time to hunt, Eshe wanted for nothing — Scimitar provided all that she desired. Because of this — and largely in part to Eshe’s inclination not to be separated from her darling dears — Cypress and Rannoch had virtually never been separated from their mother for any significant period of time. Often while he napped, the elder of the two reached for his mother to suckle or knead at her ever-present form, and when he found the solid reassurance of her to be absent he roused immediately, a storm cloud of petulance cast over his already solemn visage. He was, by nature, a happy boy, but expressed his moods in a more subtle way than his sunny brother.

Cypress tumbled sunblind out of the den, starry-eyed, a fretful murmur stuttering in hiccupping whimpers from his lips — “Mama? Mama?” — and made a stumbling beeline for his mother. Tipping his head back to regard her, he reached up to press the tip of his nose to hers. “Mama peas invite Cy osside?” he begged, hoping she would allow him to stay with her instead of going back into the den alone. Fussily, he kneaded his paws against the plush fur of her breast, tucking himself into the triangle formed by her forelegs and rolling onto his back with his tail curled demurely betwixt his splayed hind legs. His forelegs curled demurely, tucking up under his chin as he gazed lovingly up at her. “Mama,” he said solemnly, and regaled her with a river of childish babble simply for the joy of feeling like he was having a conversation with her. “Mama, today,” he rambled sleepily, “today is a ky-yet day. Qui-et day. Today is a qui-et day.”