Silas listened to his mother very intently, but despite that, there were parts of her story that didn't quite make sense to him. Namely the segment where Persephone claimed it was him that saved her from the stifling clutches of grief.
"I don't particularly recall saying anything that would have had that effect," he stated.
"Well, that is mostly because you did not say a thing. Not at first," that absent minded smile her features displayed persisted. Understandably, considering she was still rummaging through shelves of long since gone yet well conserved memories, "When you realized I wasn't responsive to any words of comfort, you… exited the room then came back a while later, carrying a piece of wood and a carving knife, sat down and just sculpted there for hours and sometimes you'd describe your work to me. I cared not for the meaning of your words back then, but your voice remained consistent. I clung to it until I found my way back,"
