They are so not okay it's not even funny. But they can keep a lid on it. The walk here helped some. They hold up the metal hand, showing her the little bundle of fabric, but keep the metal fingers curled around it so she can't take it herself. Not yet. They don't want her to have to relive that unless she insists. "I. Saw the frogs."

Their voice is hoarse, and the grim expression can't hold, it's turning into something that looks like it might cry, but they can't feel tears. It just feels pained. "I'm sorry. I'm. I'm sorry, Misty."