"I understand."

He does, down to his core. The wind is tugging at his own hair, at his clothing, calling to him. Above, he can see a wheeling seabird, and the sight lifts his heart.

Carefully, he combs his fingers through Susan's hair, letting it fly free as he does. There's a twinkle of humor in his eyes as he goes on. "I suppose Reep would be willing to comb it out again, anyhow."