Aspen was now completely bedridden, and Blu was terrified. The nights when he would lay down next to his mother and coax her to roll over so he could preen her feathers as he sang songs he made up- those were his favorite moments - and they were slipping away. Lilac came over more often now, and she had started to draw blood (figuratively and literally). Blu wondered what would happen if his mother died.

When she died.

He realized that he was almost eighteen.