He haunts. Like he’s in some old time castle in Scotland. How else does he understand conversational English? [calm down dear! says the wife. He’s never written a poem.]

So what we do is de-engineer the emotions. I see Raebert in the doorway. I love him and fear him. What you do with forces of nature. But he’s also seeing a doorway. Where his mommy is. And she is, as I can confirm, a goddess.

God save us all.