[He loves a story. It hasn't got to be shakespeare, his favorite. Anything will do. The parables of the gospelevity, tales from his ancestor and the other adults of the church, a good book either from his own collection or from Meulin's. Even some wild retelling Mituna's dredged up from the depths of the internet can entertain.

Nearly without fall, he listens to all enraptured.

Even if there are some things that confuse him. Even if there are things that throw him off.]

I... suppose...

[He says it slow, unsure, then follows up with words coming very fast.]

But, it was divinity was it not? Was no vision bestowed that such flowers should be gathered mother fuckin swift? Was not the miracle made to be through thus?

And... what's a daughter? And a parent?