Neverwinter Forest hurting. longing. dancing to disco music.

He knew the weight of her words.

He wished now more than ever that he spoke better. Missed, He mimicked softly. He might have tried for more but there was a sound.

Soft and precious. A mewl, not much more than a soft sound of life.

Fjall, she called him. A name that would need practice but...a good name. A good, tiny little thing. So small and precious. He had seen her other children and none had been this small.

He grew nervous he might hurt the boy somehow. As if merely existing near such a small thing might be dangerous. With such worries coursing through his mind, he lowered himself down, securing his stability as he kept his eyes on the small boy.

Boy, He whispered, soft even in his rasping voice.