Short-lived though it may be, the contact helps. In fact, it prompts him to draw in a deep and full breath, and to let it slip finally as the long sigh he's sorely needed to breathe all day. He may not look terribly relaxed at present, but it's an improvement.

"I know." It would be very easy to keep the rest of this to himself—well, telepathy aside, anyway—but since he feels it should be obvious anyway, he goes on. "I don't like thinking of this, any of this, as a long-term situation. None of us should be here, least of all the children." This is the train of thought that's kept his brow perpetually furrowed thus far. And now he chooses to lift his head, finally, to give the lights around them a look that is decidedly less than friendly.

"This city is a prison. It may offer some luxury to its prisoners, but the fact is we're all being kept here and made to work. I don't know how anyone can stand it."