So, recently, as evening comes, The Cherubim has taken to coming up to me and saying in his breathy, backwards voice: “No beautiful day! No. No beautiful day!” Occasionally, this is followed by a comment about the moon.
So far as I can tell this is either an acknowledgement of the coming of night or a request to turn the sun out and put up the moon (something he seemed to want when he had to go to bed in the light during the summer.)
Either way, it’s mildly eerie. I’m sure there’s a story idea in there somewhere.