Wrath's too busy staring at the stars herself, hands pressed against the glass. It's beautiful and makes her feel tiny, and also makes her feel... free, somehow.

"Goddammit, Maine," she whispers. "You never said it was beautiful." But maybe it isn't so beautiful when someone is trying to kill you all the time.

She misses Maine.

Before she can start feeling too sorry for herself, she steps back and sees the floating guy. "Oh cool? How do you do that?"