Seaside Moors Chere, mo lemmé toi

She sighed softly as she was reassured, and leaned into her mother's embrace. It was frustrating, having a blank space where words simply disappeared between thought and speech. And it was almost worse when words came- but they weren't real, or they weren't the right word. She couldn't remember what it had been like listening to her siblings begin to form words- she'd been too young, and those memories faded like lines drawn in the sand. She wasn't sure if they'd gone through the same thing- but something told her that she was different. That realization hadn't necessarily occurred to her, as she had been accepted and loved regardless of the fact that she hadn't spoken until recently. She was fortunate, but at the same time, she felt a deep disappointment in herself for being so far behind the others. 

So eventually, she pulled away from her mother, and quietly regarded the mouse she'd caught. She'd almost forgotten about it; and it cheered her up to remember that she had accomplished something. Her expression lifted a bit, and she reached down to nudge the mouse gently, rolling it toward her mother, in a wordless offering of gratitude.