HEARD FROM YOUR MOTHER, SHE DON'T RECOGNIZE YOU

DEAR FRIEND as you know,  your flowers are withering
your mother's gone insane, your leaves have drifted away.
    but the clouds are clearing up
        and i've come reveling, burning incandescently,
                                              like a bastard on the burning sea.

YOU'RE JUST LIKE YOUR FATHER,
BURIED DEEP UNDER THE WATER.

As he opened the door and greeted her with a gentle nudge, she would lean into the feeling, making sure they were close together. She'd never expected to have children herself, not before her first miscarriage, and certainly not after. The female had always been work, work, work, get the job done, make her papa proud. And she'd not wanted it, the first, nor the second time, she'd carried children. The first, was out of bitterness, a hatred towards something that wasn't her fault, her choice, and it was her fault in the end the unborn children died. The second, however, was simply out of fear. She didn't want anymore children to die by her paws, and still one did, but she'd like to think...maybe she'd done an okay job, all things considered. She tried her best to. She didn't know what a mama was supposed to be, really, but she thinks maybe she did what she needed to, what she could. And she's grateful, in the end, they were here.

She was happy that, at least, he seemed to feel comfortable to speak with her about his emotions. She'd not wanted to press him too far, but she wanted him to know that he could always come to her - that he should, if he needed help. Her two regrets in life existed only because she'd not taken the time to be honest, not sought help. And she'd been through enough to know how to offer advice for most things, at least. She would not admit most of what happened in her life, just so not to stress his own emotions. He was her child, it was her job to carry the weight, no matter how much he may want to help. And this would be nice, she thinks; they could share something together.

"Oh? Let's see it then," she'd respond to his statement, slowly moving past him to get a closer look at the design. She's quiet as she looks it over, tail tip twitching, before offering a nod and looking to him. "I think we can make that work." Goldie offers with a wink. The female would set down her basket of supplies, pulling out her own paper and pen to begin working on it. She'd expected some sort of sentimental design, just knowing her son was who he was. Her paws carefully glide around, trying her best to mimic the composition Sea had set up for her. And after several moments, she would have the design recreated for him on her own piece of paper. "Like this, hon?"

/i know how to reply to things yes i am very good at replying to things on time