Thomas eyed the bird girl. He knew how unhappy she was with him. She'd not hidden it at any point. He wasn't sure if his answer was going to be enough, or acceptable.
"Sometimes I don't have a choice." Thomas kept looking at her. "Sometimes, they can't stay. Who and what they are upsets the balance. Sometimes, they become of no use any longer, they are used up, but not by me. By themselves. If they don't go back, they would wither."