It's all an overwhelming push, a desperate hand reaching out to touch a foreign yet familiar face. I could feel the pull towards the boy, the invisible force stretching beyond me to reach the blue roan colt (my son, oh my son I love you so, why have you gone) as if wishing to caress the young face with a tenderness only a mother could muster. I had not part to take in such desperate contact, lacking the fundamentals of a good, caring mother with my forced concern for the youth. Perhaps I was actually concerned, looking down at him like I was looking in a mirror— for there I saw a reflection of myself— lost and afraid in an unknown place. It was how I'd found Seele, how I wandered unknowingly onto the path of a life I'd never imagined. 

It hurts to remember, like plucking at the exposed flesh of a healing wound, stabbing it with a harsh finger. It would never heal, not with the way I would always reflect on my previous family, with their acceptance of my condition and love only misfits could give. I'd been embraced immediately, and had accepted the quiet affection by clinging to Seele in desperation. I'd begun to replace the image of my mother with her, seeing her face on my mother's body and hearing her voice rather than my biological dam's. As long as it had been, I still clung desperately to Seele's memory in hopes of finding another connection to her, for all I had was a small tether. A shard of horn and braid of red, all so much smaller than the real thing had been. I had looked for Midas, for Reizend, but found only emptiness and a loss of hope. 

I took in a deep breath, looking at the babe while letting my mind reel. What do we do? I ask you, perhaps you will have an answer for me. "We bring the boy to his mother, of course." Of course, an obvious solution. "Introduce Amara— and Sameira." I listen to the boy correct himself, saying his "mama" was in fact his father's companion. I nod my head in understanding, finding light amusement in the fact that he called a brown bear mama (I'm your mother, mothers do these things). I shift my weight, furrowing my brow and shaking my head at the boy's question (I-I lost him, I lost another one. Why? Why do they leave me?). "Unfortunately, we haven't." Sameira shakes her head as well, as if to accentuate the fact that neither of us had run across any brown bears recently. "But we can certainly help you look!" I switch my expression to a hopeful one, trying to show that I (and Sameira) were willing to help the roan search for the misplaced companion. 

He seems to take notice of Sameira however, as if her presence had washed away any worries and shed light on the situation (but is he okay? Will my son be okay? Please, answer me). Her tail wags as he says hello, ears flickering forward and tongue out in a relaxed, welcoming fashion. She was trying her best to look friendly. "Hello, small boy." I glance at the duo, offering a soft smile to play along my scarred lips. You handle children better than I do, and you could still be considered a child yourself. "We both could, Amara you are not much older." I can't argue with that. "She says hello." I look over the child while Sameira distracts him, wagging her unnaturally long tail in a playful manner and trying to excite the boy more to avoid letting the panic swoop in to resettle. Distraction was the best option, but I needed to get the boy's name. In the same honey dew voice I'd used on him earlier, I try to be rather subtle in tone with soft syllables and fluid movements. I continued to act like this child was a deer in headlights, that he might spook if I spoke all too loud (They always leave, why do they always leave?). "That's Sameira, and I'm Amara. What's your name?"