Very little, actually. She died giving birth to me, and when I was old enough to travel alone and find her, the farm she'd lived on and the nearby town had been destroyed in a war - the houses ruins, the church gone, and the graveyard lost - or at least unfindable with ten years of returning forest. I have a ring - not a very good one, but all I have of her. But according to my adoptive father, she was naive, and not very smart, and too trusting, but a gentle soul who only failing was believing someone who lied to her just so he could use her.
non-anon-text, but private.
anontext, private
He stares at the screen for a few moments in thought.]
I was adopted, too. And my adoptive father always said that it is the duty of the strong to protect the weak.
Someone should have been there for her.