Balril

The old maiden sways this child in her paws, sniffing his ears and mouth, before carefully scanning an oh-so familiar sight of an ebony overlay. Deep in thought, she stares into those tiny bright orbs while exchanging words with a curious parent.
"How peculiar...", a sigh is heard, then followed by a slightly more relaxed expression. "I would not fret, my dear. It appears your fallen leader may have ensured guardianship over her lineage." She speaks quite vaguely but is quickly understood by the mother, as this is more than familiar to her. Perhaps, finally an answer to this generational anomaly.