( ...ah. Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh. But he does think this over, a slow and careful mulling that churns and churns and churns, until it nearly seems as if the god has withdrawn completely. As if silence might befit him. As if he has finished what young games he yet wished to play.

Then, crystalline: ) We shared a womb before, and we share a house now... but not a time. Or a place. Or a dimension. ( A light, eruptive chuckling. The god is, perhaps, too amused, too fond. ) The little brother... grew and grew... and it is greedy, and reaching out its little hands. Hoping... hoping to come out. It must have found a little crack here, another crack there. And someone to wish it... free.