Teige gestured at the moons with the pipe. "Said it's freeing as hell."

They exchanged wordless, unsteady grins.

After a moment Hawk began to howl, to Teige's delight; he joined in a breath later, and they howled loudly and tunelessly across the rooftops and into the deep night--

--until a voice roared out from somewhere nearby: < SHUT UP OUT THERE! >

The outburst sent them to their feet and off the roof, down another set of steps and back onto the street, laughing shamelessly as they went.

"Do you miss?" Hawk asked as they wobbled down off the steps and into a pool of light cast down by a single lamp. He finished the question, thickly, "Earth?"

"Do I," Teige echoed. They were vaguely aware of the round scattering of leaves underfoot, the little floating glowing creatures still drifting here and there at knee level, the shadows in the archways and galleries at their backs, but not that aware. Teige's expression creased into a sort of grimace, limned by the street lamp. "Do I. My bones cry out for it a'times. Not t'be dramatic, mind ya."