[He must be nervous, if he feels like he has to lie. He says he's not scared, but they know they wear the exact same face as a person who reduced him to sobbing on the ground, begging for his life. He's moving carefully, like he expects them to slap the juice right out of his hand, maybe slap his entire hand right off with it.

They just have to try harder to be comforting, then. They dig eagerly into their basket, start pulling out - start pulling out too much, probably, but it's always better to give too much than to give too little. A little shrink-wrapped package of crackers and Cheez Whiz, fruit leather, a Halloween-size pack of popato chisps, some Oreos.]

They're not monster food, so they don't heal or anything, but - but if you're hungry, take as much as you want. I'm happy to share. You must be having a rough time over here. But... how did... um... sorry, but, uh, how did you cross? Your mirror's not... er. I didn't think he'd feel up to crossing over, is all.