It might be Vanille's gentle and cheerful disposition despite the losses she had suffered, but when he looked at her, all Ty could see was his mother. For as long as he could remember, she had suffered from an illness that had seemed to rob her of all of her energy, but despite it all she didn't seem to complain. Growing up, he'd been teased about being a mama's boy, but it was from his mother that he'd learned compassion and had helped shape him into someone who wanted so desperately to help others.

Having Vanille around was both a blessing and worrisome, her face flickering to one that was older and more gaunt, Ty grasping onto her hand when he felt her reach onto his shoulder.

"Mom." He sounded half relieved and half worried, trying to sit up. "Are you really okay? I know you got out of New York but after that-"