Diana didn't move. Not to melt into the hug (and she did like hugs), nor to pull away. The only movement she gave was the slow slide of her tears, a little bit of an underwhelming tremble as the emotion did what it wanted to do with the rest of her.

"I..." It was always hard talking when you were crying.

Doubly so when your tears smelled like friggin' lunch.

Merde.

"I know it's...it's not real," she said, sounding less certain than she wanted to be. "But...but that doesn't mean it's not true." That's what the Faeries told them when they first arrived, wasn't it? Your loved ones are likely dead.