body was, saw how hurt he still must've been. I...I knew what he wanted me to do then, because I knew what I wanted. He wanted to tell me his story, but how? The dreams never gave me anything, so what else could be done? Still, I knew I wanted to touch him. I wanted to hold his skull to tell him...to tell him everything would be all right. He'd been hurt, but here, he was not in danger. He wasn't that helpless baby anymore, he was...he....I wanted to tell him all this, but all I could think to do was place my hand on that skull.

"Instantly, I was back in that field, the same one where I'm sure Siron has taken you. That hell of the mind, her home. I found him, still behind the shack. The beaten baby cried, spoke, told me what happened to it.

"He was...

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