She nods, and is quickly distracted by them swarming over her, asking questions, which she tries to answer as quickly as possible, though they soon overwhelm her, with the sheer volume of questions, and their own impatience. Vorela finally has to step in, and pluck a few of the noisier ones away. "Alright you little scoundrels. Give her room to breathe, for goodness sake." She offers his mother a handshake. "And you must be his mother, he told me so much about you, when we were little. I'm Vorela, his familiar." "Ahh, yes! You've grown, quite a bit. And I thought you were a dragon...?" "Oh, yes, of course I am. But I'm also over three hundred now, so..." "Oh, my, right... yes, that would make it a bit crowded in here, wouldn't it?" she asks, and both of them laugh.<br/><br/>Before long, the other inhabitants of his realm make their way, introducing themselves, one at a time, for the most part; even Mordin makes an appearance, tearing himself away from his work long enough to be pleasant and social, before apparently remembering something, and scurrying away again.