Well, that's more of an answer than she was expecting.

"More of a bleeding wound than a bruise," she says with a frown, "And the Divine seems inclined towards amputation than stitching." And then she grimaces. Why is she talking in metaphors? Maybe this is what happens when you have dreams. "Can't do a blasted thing about that."

The metaphors, the bleeding, the Divine. Powerlessness in the face of it all. That's a familiar feeling at least.