"Seven? I don't even know if we reach seven," Aidan notes with a pensive frown. "Why seven? Seven dwarves, seven sins, seven wonders of the world. Mystical." He grins, then starts listing, ticking things off on his fingers as they go. "Whiskey. Jazz. The first ray of sunlight after winter. The first leave falling when fall comes. Making wishes on shooting stars. The wind blowing up a pretty bird's skirt. Finding a hat that fits just right." He grins. "There, seven. Seven's a good number."