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Forever after, it will hit him at the oddest times - standing on the deck of the Dawn Treader with Reep and Caspian and Lucy and even Edmund, if he’s being honest - or much later, with Jill and Puddleglum and Rillian, tumbling out from beneath the earth.
The urge to grab them all, to gather them into him with arms grown longer for the purpose, folding them into his great wingspan, where he can hold them, defend them, protect them -
Hoard them, some nasty little voice whispers in his head, sibilant and sharp, and so he shakes himself mentally, and pulls his hand back from where it hovered over Jill’s shoulder, nearly touching - let her be free then, he thinks, let her fly on her own.