"You don't seem much like a shadow, to me," Soldat comments. "Wherever you came from, you're pretty real."

They hesitate, then reach over to rest their flesh hand a moment on the top of her head, and pet slowly twice before pulling back. They're working on this touch thing. "I'm like you, that way. This place is better than where I came from, when I was alive. Even including the weird horror shit that comes up." Like lanterns, hallucinations, and green-eyes.