Every care she takes with him chips away at the lingering doubt that this is real, that he's not finally gone mad. He shifts to sit with her on the floor, watching her eat and occasionally remembering to do so himself.

"The world has never been good to mortals without money or influence." It's been great to those with both, but Orpheus has now spent much more time on the other side of the wealth divide, and he's come to appreciate it much more. "And you care for them, so we'll do what we can to ease their lives."

He shifts again, so his leg is pressed against hers, a grounding touch, and he pinches off a bit of fish to offer the cat. "I do have ID. They don't let you fly without it anymore." He has a guy. And when the guy dies or retires, he finds a new guy.