He knows better than to begrudge the poor girl a moment's prickliness, even if he didn't rely on that sort of forgiveness for himself often enough. And he's glad for Myr's steadying presence here as well, always gentle and warm in a way he's seen work wonders.

"...Oh," he murmurs, with a sharp pang of mingled shock and aching sympathy. The anchor shards are still a mystery to him, though he's coming to understand them ever so slightly better. He's only ever seen them on rifters, and of course there's no way they can go home, simply by virtue of the rifts seeming to be one-way only, but it feels like a less-than-opportune moment to ask her why the same would apply to her. He'll look it up on his own.

For now, he seats himself on one of the dock's low pole supports, rather than towering over her like an interrogator. "It's not fair, is it." Sometimes, that's all he'd ever wanted someone to say to him.