She was only even vaguely aware that Peter was speaking. Or even there. Although she hadn't forgotten he was, really. There was no way he should still be alive, and that blinked like a neon sign in the corner of her brain, over and over and over.
But there was sunlight on her skin.
She missed the hand gestures because she didn't turn around.
... 'poof?'
Phaedra swallowed so her voice wouldn't shake. Then she turned so half of her body was facing Peter. She was unwilling to turn totally away from the window, or the sun, just yet. "Alien planet," she managed. "I hadn't ever thought of it before and it didn't apply before but this isn't the same sun." She stuck her arm out the window. "It can't hurt me."
She grinned. She didn't even care that she was wearing almost nothing. On some level, she probably wouldn't have cared anyway. It seemed like things here were heading in that direction.
It wasn't just that it wasn't hurting her. It was that it wasn't controlling her, either. Sun usually made her into a block of dead thing. Phaedra was moving. She, in fact, wanted to move a whole bunch.