It cannot say for certain; it holds no dominion over fate. Though in years of observing it feels less inclined to believe in reasons. The desire for one, however, is wholly human. Albtraum cannot blame anyone for having it.

Fingertips tap and scratch at the wood before a palm smoothed it and, as if struck by inspiration, its entire body animated in a tale. "A young girl dreamed of peace. War took her father, grief took her mother, famine took her brother. She brought death to all she touched but longed for life. Cried herself to sleep each night. One day, she stopped dreaming of peace." Her transformation was magical, artfully vicious, and devastatingly gruesome. "She found a home in the wars that haunted her."

Sometimes people live in the dark. Counter to what most believe these days, it's not necessarily an evil thing. At least, Albtraum believes this.