"Good," he replies, though he's not exactly convinced. They'd left things so broken that he has a hard time believing she'd be here now and holding him like this without it being a product of his own imagination. He leans his head into her hand, seeking out comfort. Even if this is fake, it's where he wants to be right now.

When he looks back up at her she looks so concerned, like she still cares about him so much that it's brought her to the verge of tears.

He hums a comforting noise and lifts one of his icy hands to touch her arm. "Don't cry. It's okay. I think I was dying, but I'm better now."

He tips his head a little further to look at the source of the other voice in the room and sees...cats. The bigger one, he's seen before. He remembers it popping into being over on the couch. Annoying bastard that wouldn't leave. The little one he doesn't remember, but he assumes that it's just as argumentative and intelligent and the other one.

Not exactly snack material. Probably. "Can I eat the kitten?"