Kaya lowered her gaze. She had nothing she could say. She'd apologized, but it wasn't okay. Never would be. Long moments of silence followed, where the little goddess avoided looking the man beside her in the eye.

That silence ends when a voice, musical yet very adult. "Threads woven together, tainted with dismay, jealousy, resentments and distrust. What are children doing meddling with the strands?" It asked. It wasn't said angrily. More, it was said in curiosity.