Being Fyodor's mother, you noticed how he was more introverted than other children, more stoic, and isolated.

You attempted everything in your power to at least make him more social, but he preferred to stick close with you. To be in the safety of your presence, to be cherished by you.

Here you are, singing a soothing lullaby to him in Russian, as he rested in your embrace, head buried in your shoulder, never bothering to adjust his position, seated in your lap.