Dragoncrest Cliffs near-sighted

Maman, oh, Maman. Her fur dried his tears, her embrace filled him with love. He could forget his pain, the suffering, the intense anguish and longing he’d felt after all this time. She was here now, she was alive, and she was his.

Jean-Heron didn’t care about anything as much as he cared about his mother. (Sisters a close second. Father a distant dead last.)

I missed your face, I missed your smell, I missed your touch! I missed everyt’ing, Maman, I missed you so much. Though his accent had waned, he had never stopped rhyming like her, not even after all this time apart. Please sing to me, I need a song. The boy practically begged, peering up at her face. I missed your voice de most while I was gone.