Not quite the case in his world as it was him desperately trying to convince himself that perhaps everything he'd gone through was very... Normal. Standard fare. Not at all deeply fucked up and awful and hard to process on one's own as a teenager.

"A songbird?" Childe says softly, "Song is more than enough."

Songs for joy, for tears, for war. They all had meaning, all had merit. Sometimes Childe wished he'd had the chance to formally approach the arts-- He felt like he'd enjoy a bit of theatre outside of the roles and snippets he'd inserted himself into.

"Songs remind us that we're alive. That we still have stories to tell. I think it'd be good for morale."

Childe grins then, with a little laugh.

"But if you ever do want a lesson on fighting, I'd be happy to help. Name a weapon, and I can teach you. Just don't say anything related to archery. I haven't quite got that one figured out."