The Sentinels I'm afraid to sleep because of what haunts me

"Happy? I don't know. I am okay though. At peace," Wraen shrugged. Again there was no simple answer to that question, because no one in their good sense pranced around their lives being 100% happy all the time. At any given moment you could feel a myriad things that "happy" would not even begin to cover. On the other hand - there was always this inbetween state, when you were neither happy, nor sad. Normal. Okay. In the middle-ground.

"Maybe you expect too much from one person? Just because she is your mom... I mean, it is okay not to get along with her. Or that you cannot agree on some things or anything at all with her. Or that you argue," Wraen mused. "She may be so much a different person that you may never be good friends, even if that mother-son bond exists. I mean, I am not even sure I would have become friends with my siblings, would have acknowledged each other, if we had not been born in the same litter, but - say - met as strangers," now that was an interesting thought, but just one of many idle speculations of "what if"s. 

"But - I admit - it is flattering to know that you listen so intently, when an old hag like me drowns you in her wisdom," she teased him in good-humour.