Gaja could understand his sentiments. Sort of. There were many things that lured him from the skies. Quite often, the phoenix preferred being among others. There was always something new and interesting to observe.

"Fall is my favorite season," he offered. Not because it reminded him of the cycles of life (he needed no reminder of that!). Not even because it was last fiery display before the trees went dormant for winter (much like himself every century or so). No, it was because he matched. All the reds and oranges were his favorites to see.

"Do you have a favorite?"