Re-l thought about asking what he meant by "burn out", and then decided she didn't want to know.

The flow of sand was definitely lessening. Whatever force had whipped up this sandstorm, it was fading away. The constant swish of sand grains was fading, and in its absence other sounds became magnified. She still couldn't see the sky, but by now it must be nearly night, or at least late evening.

"All those centuries," she said thoughtfully. "It might be nice to have so much time." She'd known it, even with Vincent in the last good days. There was every chance he could live forever. She had a century, at best. Her grandfather had had much more, but he'd been a sick and dying doll for most of it.

"Not that I'd trade," she added, just in case Gabriel was getting the wrong idea.