"I— I get that," Lyra said, chewing on her lip, which was tender, which made her realise she'd been chewing in without noticing, and she pushed her tongue over it to keep it away from her teeth. "A little bit odd," she repeated his words, and laughed, though the laughter still felt infected by the horror. She tried to push through, just, talk her way through it, like horror could be shed like streamers if you kept moving. "You like, the king of understatement, Henry. Jeez. But no, look, I get it. I got kidnapped by faeries a year ago?" It was weird that she was phrasing it as a question, she knew that was weird; there wasn't any question about it, it was fact, it happened. Maybe the question was whether or not this was allowed to be similar to what he'd been through, because... It really wasn't the same at all.
And yet, she really wanted to grab onto the part of his experience she could understand, because she was floundering, and she hated floundering. So there, she'd said it, she'd increased the small number of people who knew by one. "It wasn't like— yours," she had to throw that in as a disclaimer, before he freaked. "It wasn't. It was like a party. Kinda. Okay, it was a bit fucked, really. But. Anyway... I remember how going back to normal life after that... Well, like what you said: my brain couldn't comprehend it."