His mother had begun to seem brighter once more, though Aslan wouldn't allow himself to be satisfied with only the outward appearances. He wanted to talk to his mother about the matter, selfishly as much for his own good as it was checking up on her. He wanted to fully understand, to know more about the two apparently very great wolves that so many had evidently respected. And who was better to get such facts from than his mother? Novel and Dutiron themselves he supposed though there wasn't much at all that their empty den could say about them and they themselves were hardly doing much talking at the moment.
"I was going to ask you that." He claimed as they continued their walk along the beach. "You've been really sad lately. I know why, and I can't do anything but I wanted to see how you were." It was a rather awkward conversation he had decided, or at least was going to be. Now he spoke the words he feared that the little smile upon his mother's face would soon fade and he'd be left with tears and no idea how to comfort her. This was a mistake, this was why his dad had been the one to comfort her all this time and not Aslan.
