"Nothing... quite so useful, I'm afraid. All I've been recalling is... someone I once knew. Her scent... her touch... the sensations, the--reactions I would have in her presence or even simply hearing her mentioned to me. But I can't remember her face... or her name... but...." He breaks off, one wing going to his brow. "Her... voice. I remember her voice--like a soft flute. Gentle and melodious. I remember what her scent always meant to me...."

He shakes his head. "If it's simply fate that chooses what we remember, then fate is cruel, indeed."