[ Vanessa is hardly equipped to handle the near tantrum of a child after the time she's had, but somehow her voice stays quiet with a weary, raspy whisper. ]

I would love to go. Far away. But I'm here, and I'm not happy as you think your dolls are.

[ Curious, she'll try to pull the umbrella closer to her side, gaze caught on the blood only a moment before returning to him. No matter what kind of powers he has, he is certainly a child in behavior. ]

You can't be happy, can you, knowing about the rot? We may see it now. Will we see more? [ A curious frown. ] That doesn't make you happy, either. What would make you happy?