Unexpected Family Relations
As shaken as I am, my answer shakes the-one-who-must-be-Nalla even more. While I sit slack-faced like an idiot, they plant their elbows on the table and bury their face in their hands, clutching it as though they would have liked to rip it off.
And, barely stifled by those hands, I can hear sounds that are more akin to an animal dying in agony than an upset or grieving sentient being, let alone a shocked one.
No, they are not shocked by my name, or my age. But there is something in both that they recognised, or expected, and…. `Well, and then what? They do not feel like a mortal, so did they lose their children at the same time that I was born?`
And no, they do not feel like a mortal indeed, but the feeling–! `Why are they so familiar? Who are they?`
The last question slips out of my lips before I can prevent it. And, for a moment, the hair-rising sounds get louder.
A rather familiar flask materialises on the table-top in front of me, instead of a verbal or gestural answer.
And, upon drinking the milk inside, it is my turn to stifle sobs.