Very old sketch
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“ What's his name?“ the boy asked.
"He doesn't have a name yet," the man shrugged.
“At all? Mom didn't name him?“
“They don’t have mothers,” he paused a little, thinking how to explain it more clearly, “they choose their own names. When the time comes“
The boy tilted his head, looking up. A long pointed muzzle with two black lines in which orange light flickered was staring at him intently. It was as if those glowing lights were looking right at him. Intently, attentively. The child guessed - it was the eyes.
“Yeyram,” the boy said affirmatively. His plump baby face frowned.
“Yeyram?“
“Let's call him that.“
“And what does this name mean?“
“I don't know, I just made it up.“