Daimd is unfamiliar with the sting of rejection. So rarely has he ever wanted anything from the world and its inhabitants that it has been rarer still for him to find himself denied. Word of his sexual prowess circulated quick and easy through his tribe, and he was never turned down when in search of coupling.

So he finds himself at a loss to describe this feeling, a pervasive stubborn quiet cry for approval, from only the one mouth (or hand or heart) able to give it.

If I loved her only half as much as I love you, she would be blessed with more love than any greater parent ever gave their child.

I take pride in her; she is my Valm. I am not her father, and could never hope to be. And she will never keep me while I cannot be what I am, to her. She cannot take comfort in being the only child whose name I know and carry with me across the world. She cannot know she has meaning to me because I will not give her that one word.

Ancestors why, why did you put a creature in this world that is not anything but itself?

I swear to you, I swear by the tears I cry because I cannot, I swear that when I have the means to explain what this is and what I am, I swear that I will tell you first, and I will tell you wholly. I will tell you every thought I have harboured and every feeling I have felt since youth, since infancy, since memory; all things regarding me, and myself, and I.

I dry my eyes and go to you, because this confuses you as it has never confused me. I have always known that I am Daimd. You know only the Daimd you see (and smell and touch and taste and feel).

(Love me. Do not leave me. I have never had anything to lose before you, and you take the world when you go.)