Lake Rodney it's a sliver of glass; it is life, it's the sun

The story caught him off guard, and he found himself drawn into the memory—somewhat unreliably narrated by Coltan, who hadn't been there. He laughed, though it emerged as a kind of hiccuping sob, too. The tears that stood in his golden eyes spilled over once more.

God, that's so him, Killdeer remarked, sniffling. Cock Hole. You know, he taught me my very first word? 'Butts.' And I think 'fuck' was not too long after. And then ass, courtesy of Towhee. . .or so he remembered.

He closed his eyes, still giggling slightly. It felt good to laugh while letting the tears flow. Bittersweet, really.

He was my brother, he murmured, then turned his gaze toward Coltan. Just as much of a brother to me as you, or any of my siblings. More so, really. But that didn't need to be said.

Killdeer regarded the strange being that was this. . .boy-man. The story had soothed his unease for a few minutes, but it was coming back—though with a sense of warmth he couldn't explain, either. You're so like my Dad, Killer said, smiling faintly despite himself.