[ The dreamy expression Honir wears as he listens seems to be a mixture of pure awe and nostalgia at the same time, somehow. He sighs and a little puff of steam poofs out of his tea cup, surprising him into taking a sip behind a sheepish laugh. ]

What I wouldn't give to see such a thing with my own eyes! Oh, and the things we have made that I wish I could show you now. The Mother has quite the imagination.

[ He could listen to these stories all day. ]