"So that my wings do not cry any more blood, such is my sorrow."
I asked her, if as the carrier of my co-creator, she was now my parent. She only shrugged, "If you wish it."
Already she grows tired of the Curse. Like Narcissus hopelessly enamoured of his own reflection, her obsession is now in the one place she cannot reach..inside herself. She would not, or could not don the demon's face. That may have been too traumatic for me as well.