"I make things that are pretty. No substance, nothing like what my mother does." Crops, nourishing and feeding the mortals who served them. She had been around for eons long before her. She was just...better or more powerful in creating life than Rey was. The young woman in the grass thought of herself as her mother's shadow, forever following behind and hoping to gain some sort of approval from her.

"I've been striving to do something that would make her proud. Something that would have her....want me around."

She took another breath, forcing those feelings down even as a tear or two fell from her face.

"My own mother thinks little of me, doesn't love me, why would I think anything else I do or create is worth it?"