“Maybe if he has a sibling, I won’t be able to,” he said matter-of-factly. But he knew Prometheus was right at a certain point. He had sort of a miserable track record when it came to raising children. Well, his grandson. He had a hand in all of it. He could have perhaps achieved his goals without creating such a fracture between them. It was too late now. He shook those thoughts from his head, they were useless to him right now.

“Where did he get all this tail?” he asked with a chuckle. He brought his tail across, holding it like a newborn in one arm. He conjured another comb, gently brushing out micro bits of eggshell and debris at the point furthest from Prometheus.

“We will draft an article of rules we adhere to while raising him, then,” he said, not intending to create such a daunting task. He didn’t bother mentioning that he did have experience raising children, it would only prod a raw spot.

“Azeyma,” he said, prodding his soul as he said the name. “Can you say your own name?”