As he climbed down, he passed one of the great buds on the tree, and it blossomed.
Out of the flower came a being with features like his, but a shape foreign to him. It had curves where he had edges. It was soft where he was rough.
It was a girl, young and sweet. She smiled at him. Some impulse that was foreign to him compelled him to smile back.
“Hello Father.”
-Frederick The Lesser
Creative Mine 