Annabelle knows this is a little strange for the Psiionic, but not the true extent of it. She doesn't feel frightened, or even wholly disturbed. She just feels she senses something, which is partially informed by the fact that he'd been gone. Taken, presumably; those who went on rescue were at least back for a short time, weren't they?

"I'm fine," she answers sincerely, looking at the lake as she puts her arms over her knees. She's honestly a little perplexed; she'd been made to look into the eyes of death and rebirth, as well as the consequences of tragedy on the psyche of peers, even if they were overtly distant. All things she'd absorbed intellectually through historical anecdotes and fiction, but never in practice.

It's different, she's finding, even if she isn't as sad as a more sensitive individual might be in these scenarios.

"Better than most, it would seem, after all of that."

She looks back to him, resting her cheek against her knees.

"I'm happy everyone is back."