"Catapults are..." he trails off, shaking his head. The thought of giant rocks raining down that you can't avoid is terrifying, but he's also caused it on a smaller scale. He really has no right to voice that fear, and turns instead to the other.

"Maybe cities form from people being weary of always being on the move. I've run for so much of my life. I'd love to have a place where I can stop. Where I can stay. Where I can breathe." He shrugs. "I don't mind the road, but I've had no stability from when I came into my magic until just recently, when I married my husband. He's an, an anchor for me, but I still won't deny that I'm tired of running and moving around. But I also appreciate the risk that would come from people knowing where I am, once the war with Corypheus is over."

Priorities will shift, and he'll be a very appealing target for anyone wanting religious power. There may never be rest for him.