For a minute, she rested against York's chest when he pulled her in, blinking at nothing. "Sometimes..." River tapped her fingers in a numerical rhythm in her line of sight. "Sometimes I -- I think spiral-like. It'll go around and around, increasing with every step upward because I can't -- I can't make sense of it." And she doubted it made sense now, but River tried. York knew about the damage; he'd seen what it did to her. The shaking, the panic, the mood swings. He knew from what she told Delta that pieces of her had been cut out, but River never tried to explain it before.
"And -- and I think: perhaps if I draw it out, sequentially, in a pattern-like signature, it will become clear. Sometimes it does!" She looked up, lips pressed hopefully together for a moment before she glanced away. "Sometimes it doesn't...I apologize. Delta says I am confusing."