Neverwinter Forest and i'm missing you,

Burbling softly, nestled cozily alongside his brother, Cypress listened to his brother’s rapid fire questions with a few emphatic nods of agreement. It was hard for him to ever imagine fitting in his mother’s stomach — with or without Rannoch. His eyes dubiously eyed his mother’s lean, plush middle, misty blue eyes drifting up to her face to see whether she was joking, but she seemed perfectly serious. “Ess-yuse me, Mama, how?” he piped up, ever the inquisitor. “Didja eat us first?” That would certainly make sense. Cypress had seen his father and mother eat haunches of venison that outweighed him. How he’d emerged in one piece, though, was simply a Mystery of Life that he had yet to decode. The gangly raven was a little young for the, “where do puppies come from?” talk, but his thirst for knowledge was insatiable.

“Wooah is our sitter,” Cypress said tentatively, looking up at Eshe with wide, limpid eyes as he sought to confirm this piece of information, “sis-ter. Wooah eyes like Paw eyes.” It certainly seemed like a long time until he and Rannoch would be tall, broad, and strong like their burly father, for which the stygian prince was slightly disappointed. Still, there was an element of childish stubbornness in his reply: “Mama,” he said, quite concerned, “when we tall, we gonna still be your lit-tle team?” If not, he wasn’t sure he wanted to be tall. He found himself wondering about Scimitar’s mama, but it didn’t occur to him to think of Eshe’s. It seemed she was divinely born, as were all women. Cypress had yet to meet any little girls his age. His only playmate was Rannoch, thus far.