In dreams, it lives the realities of humanity's horrors both large-scale and personal. It has tasted a fear beyond the ability to dream from scratch. Those terrors that haunted people in the night came from the earth, from a history of blood. Humankind was a special sort of monster and yet it loved them so. Perhaps, because they were both monsters. In the end, was it not simply a reflection of this?

It leans back against the chair as its attention drifts upward and a hand sleepily moves to gesticulate its points, the airy deep quality in its vocal tone feels almost theatrical. Like weaving a story. "I hear prayers before sleep comes; cries for better days. Humans want an answer. They blame God or the Devil; their parents, their teachers, their kin. Seeking the why. Why them?" Its head rolls down, chin tucked in to its chest. Eyes finding Jacinda once more. "I think there is no answer why darkness follows some; it just is."

What unfortunate events this young human has been through. "Have you found it yet, your home?" For many, this home lives in them. Goes where they go.