His words, even a few weeks earlier, would have had an entirely different response. But of course now, they are just words. They are sounds her mind takes in an analyzes, but they do not pierce the veil of her heart.

They come too late.

Isopia can feel her mind scratching around, as if trying to find whatever switch Volterra had previously turned on inside of her, and flick it back into the position he wants it to be in. She isn't even sure that she wants to be in love with him again, but she feels like she's currently in a state of free-fall. Something is wrong, and she knows that the something has to do with Volterra, and the complicated history between them. She doesn't speculate about whether or not she regrets having removed the memories, but she does trust her past self enough to know that it was done out of necessity. An Isopia who loves was a dangerous Isopia. It was an Isopia who killed a baby, who attacked Volterra. The demi-goddess has no desire to become emotionally-driven and reckless again, but she would love Volterra if she had the chance.

At least she thinks she might.

"Do we..." Her voice is soft, unsure. "Can we start over?" She isn't pleading with him, her tone suggests that she's honestly unsure. Can they start over?

And perhaps more importantly, would he want to?  

Does she?

If Volterra had voiced his thoughts about the justice Isopia owes with regards to their child, she might have told him that she's already paid it. She did die, when she murdered the baby. For weeks, months she was a hollow husk of herself. It was all she could do to keep breathing. The Mountain did not take the life of their child without thought, and nor had she ever let herself off the hook for her actions. 

The creature inside of the egg, clearly unphased by this weighty discussion, decided that it was time to make its - his - grand debut. Claws, small but sleek, began to prod at the crystalline shell, knocking away bits until his hands could force themselves into the openings, using leverage to snap the shell away. A golden hand reached out, gently tapping through the hole he had made, as if to see if the outer part of the shell was the same shape as the inner. Deciding it was, he retracting his hand and for a moment nothing happened. Then suddenly his spined-back broke through the hole. It seemed he had turned himself around and used his legs to push on the opposite wall, forcing his shoulders and back through the opening he'd already created. Although he flopped unceremoniously onto the ground, he quickly righted himself, immediately surveying those around. His eyes fell first upon Isopia, and for a moment he regarded her solemnly. Then at least, he opened his mouth revealing rows of tiny teeth and abruptly snapped them shut with a grin. He shot a glance towards Hubris and the red, giving them each only a momentary stare, before honing in on the dead body of Shida.

Lurching forward on legs not yet used to supporting weight, the gold moved to the body of the buckskin, and happily helped himself to the flesh of her neck.