There was nothing she was wanting, a pretended daughter of Nakato. She grew well, stayed healthy, and found Nakato as kind - if not as tender and gentle and cheerful - as her own mother. She does not forget them, not even a little. She will never forget the sight of them, enveloped in one another, tucked in by the first snow, the red moon becoming white again above them in a sky skirted by tall pines. She will never forget the ferociousness she saw in her father (a ferociousness he pretended he did not have when in the presence of his mate and when he thought his children could not see). She will never forget the doggedness of her mother when she desired something that she had been denied.
She would always remember them, remember and love them in her way, remember that she was the last dragon daughter born of Bahamut’s favored son. Seamus, she imagined, also would not let her forget. The man was positively overflowing with historical tidbits.
But when Nakato comes in, she leaps up, "Ma’!" No, not Mommy, but then no one would ever be Mommy in her mind again. Ma? Ma would do. Then Nakato is talking about something to do with ‘Monster’ and being unfamiliar with the titles of the land, she puffs, little baby-wolf growl clear in her throat as she hops stiff legged at the doorway as if to stave off some bestial creature that meant to take her imagined freedom from her. "I’m na’ afraid ‘f no monsters!" She proclaims with quite a bit of pride, head lifting from her little threatening growl and looking up at her mother with a wagging tail - seeking approval.