[ He is pleased. And pleased it helps. Even if he doesn't need the soup for himself, to encourage others to eat it, knowing it helps — it helps him.

There's a pause at the offer of returning to the beach. He looks that way for a moment. Yes, he is familiar. And there is comfort in a face she knows. He is glad to be that. But he is not the most familiar to her. ]

No, but... I understand. I am not them. It would be better if it were someone you knew.

[ Still: ]

... I would like that. [ There's a frown, fretting with upset. Fidgeting. ] This... this place is wrong. Blood, I taste it. It touches, taints. The magic here is steeped in blood. I am safe, but I don't like it.