She holds him tighter when he reciprocates, eyes closing as she masters her own emotions. This is familiar, somehow, horribly so. It's only a vague memory, like most things are, but there had been someone else she'd held like this, someone else who had been hurt beyond just physical wounds, and whom she'd saved. She wants to put that bullet through the kitchen fire's head even more now.

The heat of her anger has cooled, though. It's still there, but with Lights alive and the fire probably worse off for being allowed to survive and suffer as he is, the dragon of rage screaming out for vengeance in her has taken to lying low. "We got you back, and no one's doin' that to you again," she says at length. "This place ain't right. Things don't get to workin' like they're meant to. Forge is gettin' rid of that dagger. Won't be able to cut on no one no more, and that fire ain't movin' for a spell, neither."