It's a really weird feeling to remember, not because it's technically maybe Lup's, at the moment, but just for the rareness of it: respect, for an adult. Not trust, at this point, but this was one of Taako's earliest inklings of what an adult could be. She's just an eccentric old elf lady with maybe a barely kept in check hoarding problem and gracefully eclectic speech patterns, that shouldn't strike him as something particularly aspirational, but there they are. This is the first time Taako really started to believe in the future, as something that might be different from what he's known so far. Not just being cared for, though that's its own novelty, but the idea that he could do this, might have this. Freedom and stability both at once, breathing room, an actual life. What a concept.

There are tears in his eyes, and wow, what a lot of self pitying crap, good ol' Taako, saddest about himself. But it's not all sad, is it? That really happened, and even when he forgot the specifics he didn't lose sight of--something. The potential for things to be other than they are. So why's remembering this make him wish his dumb hat were big enough to hide in more than he already is? He sniffs, and tries to make it sound haughty instead of grossly emotional. "What a little snitch."