native Fëanorian Amentans
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"Just - disappeared -"

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"Just walked off with him - why is he here?"

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"So you could see him and know he's okay. We had to get him papers to get him medical attention."

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Nod.

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"We can set something up so you can see him and hold him regularly but it's risky -"

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"His mother could paint."

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"Oh good. Then he'll be a happy green. And we won't - we won't raise him to hate you -"

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"She could paint - he won't know - anything about her -"

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"What do you want us to do? Give him back?"

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"I -" He looks helplessly at the baby. His fellow plumber is confused.

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"What was his mom like?"

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"She painted. Houses, she'd do flowers and patterns on them, sometimes digital. I think her Artway account is still there. Row-of-Lilacs." He looks at the baby. "Had a purple boyfriend who promised he'd help her, whatever she needed -"

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" - baby's supposed to go back in for a bunch of followup appointments, make sure he starts gaining weight -"

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"Boyfriend wasn't there anymore lately... She was cemetery groundskeeper."

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Nod. 

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"Kalodah."

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"Kalodah. I'm - so sorry for your loss."

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Grandpa looks away.

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They leave.

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At the next family dinner his parents obligingly dote on their implausible grandson, who the doctors think will be okay. Afen croons to him in a running mix of six different languages.

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"Is he gonna be able to learn that many? Won't they get mixed up?"

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"There's some evidence that language development is slightly delayed by exposure to lots of languages, but not very much, and babies are better at language-learning."

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"It still seems like it'd be easier to start with one but what do I know."

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"Well I assume Telkam's not teaching him six." 

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