"I never imagined there were other worlds at all," Dion says. He's not sure if that's naive or not. But then, they'd only recently gleaned anything of the truth of their own world at home; how could they imagine not only another, but countless others?

Dion reaches for her hand, reassuring more than forward. With how they're laying, that's his gloved hand anyway. It's personal, but he hopes it won't be ill received. He's glad he found someone like her in all this strangeness and lingering horror.

"It does, doesn't it," he answers, amused. There aren't many clouds, but a few. He lets his eyes move between stars and clouds. The stars, he cannot make much sense of. The clouds…even he isn't without imagination.

"That other one, drifting away from us, looks almost like a flower. Do you see? The petals opening, just there." He points with his other hand.