As they settle back down with Ena, taking a seat on the swingset next to her, Leviathan thinks about the interaction they'd just had. How going in to get a couple drinks had felt like one of the most normal things they'd done since arriving here—and how it's something like this that makes them feel like, if they needed to, they could get by here.

They crack their drink open and let it settle for a moment while they talk. "My Earth isn't really like this. I mean, the city I'm from is. Neon and concrete and steel," they say, wistfully thinking about what other landscape opportunities there might even be. They take a drink (they're unimpressed with the taste, but it'll do) and continue. "But the world outside the city walls... nobody's been able to survive out there for a long time. Not much to look at out there unless you like toxic smog and dust storms."

And, in an effort to make it sound a little less bleak, they turn their head—and smile, despite realizing that this is just as bleak as the rest. "The best chance most of us have at seeing what the world looked like before is through the eyes of artists like you."