Paul wonders what it might feel like to have your perspective so altered as to become a sky. Luna doesn't seem much different than she did before in her words, but then again, she already had an ethereal quality. A sense of being tempered and wise beyond the years of her body, and now, loose of its confines, she seems only more so.

He sits down, drawing his knees close, and brushes loose curls away from his eyes. It's another foolishly human gesture for a boy halfway between flesh and flame. A person might think being radically transformed would free them from the irritations of the mortal form.

"Who puts a curse in a book, anyway?" He asks, quietly, more than a little rueful. "Why would you want to punish someone for wanting to understand a thing? That's what I'd want to know."

He sighs, dropping his gaze to the waters: "What was your book about?"