Hoshor Plains on the forefinger of an alderman

They retreat, and when they are a safe distance away from the herd, she stops and turns to him, her eyes wide. Moath, she whispers, her face soft. She looks for any and every sign of recognition she can find in his face. Do you remember me?

It has been some time since she has seen her son. Even without the innate knowledge of a mother, she would know him to be a Melonii, and love him for it. But this Melonii is more special than the others; this Melonii was once a part of her. She is blown away by his reappearance, and has so many questions.

How? Why?