Felih can't help but feel thrilled to hear him speak like this. He insists that men are nothing like what Ascians once were, but he sounds now just like any other man, fussing about his daughter. His eyes are bright and he keeps purring, but the sound falters a little when Emet-Selch looks at him dead-on like that.

Surprised, Felih hums again, a habit he never grew out of. Humming old melodies while he thinks and composes his thoughts. Never does the music seem to cease, with him.

"I simply wondered," he replies. "What it was like. You go on and on, about how lovely the world used to be- but you never tell us about it. I wonder, what it was like? To create. To imagine something, and see it simply... become. What kinds of things did you find important, I wonder? What kinds of things did you delight in creating?"

"...after all, 'tis not so different from men, in some ways. Though we lack the innate power to simply will something into existence... I feel there is merit to be had, in working material with your own hands, to bend the world around you to create something lovely."

An ear flicks, an ornate earring glinting in the light purposefully. "It is... soothing. Rewarding. When I fuss about the last details of the metalwork, or when I am at the loom, ensuring every last thread is in place... to see the completed project fills me with delight."

He looks back up to meet the man's gaze, head tilted. "I wonder, what was it like, for you?"