He remained silent, even when she turned those ancient eyes on him. How long had it been since he called her by name, since he looked at her with his own eyes? She fit with him; she filled a space within him. Without her, he preferred the long sleep of eternity. That was where he had been, was it not? His own memory was fragmented as well -- present, but out of focus. Time, he felt, would resolve much of it. For now, he was content to find her. When she kissed his jaw, the corners of his mouth softened and turned upward.
He had no answers for her, but he would find them. Her last question, however...
Sliding a careful hand down one delicate, inky wing, he turned as well and stared down into the world. "We will find them," he said -- not because he knew the future, but because he knew he could make it so. Greater than his love for his Nyxie was his love for their children. He could not have found them without her; he was not complete without her. But now that they were together again, it was different. "I hear Morpheus. Sometimes. From a far distance."