[This guy is a talker, isn't he? Lovecraft's hands flex and unflex as he listens, silent. A dead man? Older sisters? He purses his lips, unsure how to take all of this information in all at once.]

Maybe I also had a mouse in my hair once...I don't remember. [It's been so long...his past memories blur. He's lived for years upon years upon years.] And you want to be my older sister...? But you...aren't related to me.