He nods, and again he's quiet. Processing her words. Processing the world view that she's laid in his lap. It seems miserable, and everything in him is screaming for him to help her. To make this stop. He knows better then most that forcing something to live past its death is never good.

"You said you tried to save this world, right? How?" he murmurs, touching the grass beside her so she can hopefully see despite her hat in the way. He means this place rather then his world. He wants to know that story.