[ He makes a noncommittal noise at that conjecture, letting the snapping of the cards stand in place of his answer for a few seconds. Faraday has wondered the same thing – just how far his changing might go. From invisible and unheard, to an audience of one. From little more than a winter gale, to something solid and sturdy.

Could that change? Could he be more?

Faraday's not sure. Still doesn't quite understand himself – the why's of it, the how's of it, the particulars of why Emma Cullen of all people is the unlucky witness to his existence. ]

Dunno about all that.

[ He says it blandly, straightening the deck in his hands. ]

Seems to me if that were an option, I would've stumbled upon it by now. You might be the only one to enjoy my company for a while yet.