Ankyra Sound don't let your head hang low, you've seen the darkest skies i know

o pls u flatter

unaware of the panic his first little adventure had ostensibly wrought in Caiaphas' heart, the boy was alarmed to find himself cradled in her arms asudden, the erratic template by which her heart forged its beat sensatory and strangely troubling to him. he flopped backwards, gazing upon the boundless, bible-black darkness of her face, and paddled his feet slowly in the air as she focused on stabilizing her breathing. "ups! you okay!" he chirped, repeating a remark he often heard his mother use when he or his siblings took a particularly traumatizing spill. "whoops! you're okay!" and although he seemed to make the connection between visual upset and expressions of comfort, he didn't make the connection between his disappearance and her distress. the extent of his comprehension of the situation was that she had just fallen to the ground and was sad about it. but he caught her, so it was okay.  

alas, concern for his most-best-loved provider met its waterloo in an encounter with every child's vulnerability -- a short attention span. the owl's hallo, faint this time, gained an audience once more in Lycaon. squirming out of Caiaphas' grasp, he pranced from tree to tree, sizing up its trunk with wonder. "chees doing that?" he asked shyly, coming to the natural (and indeed, the most logical) conclusion that it was the trees hooing at him.