"If I am exiled, you are not the devil I would choose," he said simply. "A pillar of stone in the forest is no good match for a laughing breeze." His legs slotted around Carrick's hips, knowing better than to put up a fight with his body and his words at the same time.
"One day, sunset to sunset, you can catch the wind in a bottle, but after you will remain firmly rooted and I will be gone again. The skies may shift and I might find myself in your presence again, or I might not. But to presume I'm as alone as you are is wrong. I've had thousands upon thousands of years to adapt, to watch the tides of the world shift from the very moment it began. Don't presume that I am as alone in this world as you are. Air adapts. Stone erodes."