I hated the way they all felt sorry for me. All they could see was that I was not what I used to be. All they saw was that I had no home.
But they didn't really understand. I hadn't had a real home since my parents died. I was used to being alone.
And I had the sky.

They'll come. The Andalites will come. And until then...

Be happy for me, and for all who fly free.