[ Dorothea isn't really sure what to say in response to Cyrus' good spirits. Her expression is somber as she looks down at him, unsure how that arrangement of features would appear on another person's face--on his face, the one she's wearing right now. Her own hand, her own body, are so small in comparison. ]

Maybe for you. My body is the one thing about that most people have ever given a damn about, so I hope you can understand why I'm not thrilled about our current circumstance.

[ Dorothea closes her eyes for a moment, releasing a long and slow breath. ]

It isn't your fault, though, and I appreciate you've maintained your calm, because I probably would have panicked otherwise.