[Elza pauses at that. Reliving. While he didn't dream of anything last night, perhaps... This place is strange and all, so it... At least, since it's Mary, it's something he's not willing to set aside.

He continues wiping at her face, and then sets the cloth aside. Fingers comb back her hair again and he cups his palms at her cheeks.] Do you want to talk about it?

--you don't have to right now. Or at all. I wouldn't want you to if it would make you feel worse.