She follows his gaze, eyes lingering first on the new arrivals and then on the barriers which their former travelling companions have already passed through.

"The train always leaves a few broken hearts on a platform," she observes. "Sometimes those of the ones arriving, sometimes those of the ones left behind. Who can say whether it's better to mourn in sunlight or in rain- but whichever we receive, someone mourns all the same."

Zelda tilts her head upward and closes her eyes, letting the light shine onto her face. "Still, I think I would prefer the sunlight. It feels more hopeful, as though there will be something afterward."