[The touch to his face is unexpected, but not unwelcome, and as she brushes her fingers along his face, he finds himself turning his head ever so slightly to lean into her touch. Even around the family he treasures so much, it is difficult for him to lower his guard in anything but the subtlest of gestures. And yet how many years has he longed for something like this? To be close with the mother he'd barely gotten to know as a boy, before she was cruelly taken from him again.

But the moment passes, and their attention is back on the animals.]

Often, I meditate at the edge of the forest and by the lake, where many animals often take up my company. You are welcome to join me, Mother.