build me up buttercup

Her nose would come into contact with his, sending a shiver down his spine. He had forgotten what it was like to touch someone - it had been several months. He was a year and a half now, yet he felt so very old at heart. 'My son, you made it.' "I found you," there was shock and awe in his voice, because it was not often that he received good fortune. It seemed the gods hadn't totally given up on him, and had seen it fit for him to be brought back to his mother's side. Were the rest of the family here? Would they want him to join them once more? Would he oblige them? Life certainly had been easier without the constant reminder of how very different he was, but at the same time he was considerably lonely and could truthfully not deny them if asked. He would bring his bodice forth, laying the crook of his neck over the curve in her own. "I missed you," he would breathe into her fur. There truly was no place like home, and even if this orchard wasn't his birthplace - it was the very place he had found her.