Mother Like No Other

His mother was quick to answer; he never, ever doubted that she would come to one of her children when they called; only death or severe injury would stop her if she could hear her child calling for her. He cocked his head as she stopped a ways away and gazed at him, wondering what she was thinking. She didn’t share the thoughts with him, though, instead coming to settle beside him on the boulder, smiling at Cinder and rising slightly to give Regulus kisses, like always, before she greeted him, asking what it was. He shifted slightly, ears tipping back slightly in thought as he looked down at his mother, before he answered, slowly, "Bhfuil rud éigin cearr idir tú féin agus Athair. Cad atá cearr? Is cosúil go tú chomh trína chéile le déanaí." He readily kept to their family tongue; it flowed more easily, though he had been born and taught both common and the Old Tongue at the same time.

He paused, then added softly, "Tá mé buartha, Mama. Ba mhaith liom a cabhrú leat." He looked to his mother beseechingly, tail flicking to curl lightly around his hips. Cinder stayed quiet between his paws, choosing to let the moment continue without her input, though he could feel by the attentive stillness in her lithe, fluffy body, that she was listening intently to hear what was going on. Regulus refused to look away from his mother’s face and form, wanting to catch every nuance of her reactions, as well as hear her answer. He wanted to miss nothing.