"At last, I have returned to this quaint abode of mine,” with a heavy thunk, the boy’s bag landed near the door, its contents spilling out across the entryway. “I mean… I’m home.”

A faint sense of gratitude wafts from his unemotional voice, though it is made apparent through his body language that he is struggling to express it. Having grown up without a mother's warm affection, Zandik has yet to fully adjust to the fact that he is finally receiving it now.