Hawke glances at herself, and yeah, it looks a little better. Honestly he'd know more than her, since he can see her more clearly on the outside. She's distressed, and his anxiety is both reassuringly sweet and distressing. She is not going to be a shade, alright? Dead's one thing, but she draws the line at being that. "Don't panic, Hawke," she mumbles to herself, before she starts hyperventilating like some kind of amateur.

If she's better out there, hmmm. "Maybe the light? Because it's so dark in there. If I stayed in there it might have gotten worse." It felt like she was getting worse in there. "Listen I'm a pretty easy going person but the people who created this place have a real bloody bad sense of humor when it comes to creating them. Moths that take memories. Kittens that make you drunk. Dust that makes you turn into a ghost!" There's a pause. "Okay maybe it's a good sense of humor."