( The difference in musculature from reduced gravity is something she'd mentioned, but he hadn't considered the anxieties that might linger around it. The invasiveness of the change. Add that to the list of oddities that go along with the scar at the back their heads and the apparent complete eradication of the encephalitis in his brain, sans medication.

This is the kind of conversation that draws him in on more than one level. It slips into him a little — her perspective, her fear. The becoming of someone who has never seen the sky. The endless blue that hides the stars during the day.

He considers it, and deliberately mentally steps away from it. Blocks it out into white noise. )

You might like it.

( Offered from a place of rare optimism. )

For some people, the sun and the sky feels like... hope. It can be comforting, like a weighted blanket.