Noctisardor Bypass what stupid poem could fix this home?

Title. Name. The difference still unclear, because they both felt like names to him, but seeing as Druid was her favorite of the two, he would call her that. “Otay, Dwooid Mama.” He giggled at his own attempt at humor, his belly bouncing.

In the quiet moments, when all were asleep in their den, he would practice it, chanting it over and over until he mastered the name.

His mother reassured him that, regardless of either, she was still his mama and that was a comfort in itself. Another giggle left him at her silly nicknames. He couldn’t help but join in. “Arty-farty! Hmm..no Arty.” He shook his head, not liking the nicknames. His face screwed up as he thought of an alternative.