Trick!
Hi - uhm - please allow me to remind you that you asked for this. I am sorry in advance.
A perfect drabble set toward the beginning of Adar's life (100 words)
One minute. That was all he got. In the ever-present shadow of Utumno, in the very depths of the earth, he was allowed one minute to hold the newest of his children before they were ripped from his arms until they were older. He couldn’t help the tears that misted his eyes but he breathed deep through his nose, memorizing their scent. Trying to hold onto it—the imprint of his child while they were still untouched by this malicious place. “Come on, Adar,” the minder said, voice filled with cruel glee. “Your time’s up.” It always ended too soon.
I'm not crying, you're crying (also, Adar is crying)
