The half-angel's soft wings hang limply at his side as he stops and allows himself to be hugged. A crack appears in the black shell of despair that surrounds him (figuratively). "Death is justice. Hope is... " He blinks a moment and knees down. "I don't know. I don't think I could ever do enough, and I am hunted as I speak." He looks at her, into her eyes, down her clone soul, if she has one. "Why do you encourage me?"