Need
When I realized that if we didn't get a chance to fly we'd go stir crazy it was after the stir craziness started to happen, unfortunately. But ever since then we have made sure that there is time to fly as we need to, for since we first touched the sky, and felt the wind under our own wings, we have walked the earth with our eyes turned skywards, for there we have been, and there we always long to return. We need the freedom of the skies for our own peace of mind, and to keep our magic levels manageable, because if we don't burn up some of it with supporting the existence of wings we just have a constant build up that is dangerously easy to use without meaning to. I suspect that a state like this is the only way we might be able to use the sort of raw magic bolts that Dark and Krad were throwing around in the fight over the rutile, but neither of us really wants to do that as anything more than to find out if we can.
New
What are we really, I wonder. Are we magic? Are we mortal? We were extraordinary humans once, but now with four hundred years of magic built up through every generation since the Black Wings all pouring into us at once with the sealing of Dark and Krad, can we still call ourselves human? Our magic certainly isn't human, but our minds, our bodies, are they still human, or are we something new, something that the world has never seen before? I think we are something new to the world, and really what does it matter what we are? Are we mortal? Are we magic? We are ourselves, something new to the world, and indefinable because of that newness.