Hideaway Strath Tell me your story, I'll remember it always

Ceallach giggled, one paw sprawling so he could touch Eirlys while they all relaxed and listened to Lotte as she began her story. He was intrigued by the woman's words, focused as ever on the things that she said. "Uncle Dagfinn - would it bes Setä Dagfinn?" He asked, wondering if it was said with the title, too, or just in place of. "Is that right, äiti?" He asked, hoping to earn her praise with the proper word for mother too. He desperately wanted to know her culture, he, the child who looked least like Lotte but craved to properly honor both his parents and his own unique heritage.