The Void...comfortable, unchanging, endless...and yet, and yet.
There were so few sparks, so little of....interest. Time as burden, endless.
But...there, once again, there was...something. An unfolding, a possibility. There might even be...stories?
With unseemly haste - if there had been any observers - he moved closer. Yes, there was something there...there even might be...others? Oh aye, that would be a boon indeed. To once again revel in a joke being told, to laugh at a prank being played, to enjoy an insult being skillfully delivered...what did it matter if you were the trickster or the victim of the prank? Both had happened, aye, indeed.
Thus, he focused...carefully, treading lightly, he observed. It would not do to be noticed too early, as if there were others then most would be far mightier than him. And if he were honest with himself - something he usually tried to avoid - they might even have grounds to be less than pleased at finding him here. Though he never understood why having ones eyebrows singed could lead to such longlasting enmity. Had he not also paid the price of being too clever by half? In his book, having ones dignity dented somewhat should be considered a boon. Sometimes at least. And provided it happened more often to others than to ones self. Yes.