but it isn't your fault, you know?

this kind of curse-slash-gift...

it would have been hard for any child to have, any parent to navigate.

and you--

Ne had held the infant gently, studying his face, as he slept without sound.

you were alien to me, at the beginning.

I do not know hunger, or cold, or pain. I do not sleep. And I was already very old, when I woke to the world and left the place where I grew.

so how could I fathom what you are?

I do feel grief, and sadness, though not in the same way. perhaps I have just outlived too many by now.

Nir hand, offered in comfort, hand been knocked away. So ne had taken the infant, and left the two figures--the one prone on the bed, the other bent over their hand at their side.

but grief would have been your first sample of the world, though I'm sure--I hope--you don't remember.

there was much, like this, which you needed, but which I did not have.