He allows himself to relax a little when she touches him. He meets her eyes. "Thank you," he murmurs.

He has a hard time believing her - he's deterioration personified - but the encouragement is good to hear nonetheless. And she seems like she ought to know. So maybe he can just take her word for it.

"Do you mind if we talk about something else?" he says hesitantly. Zagreus has already seized such control over so much of him, his attention, his life here - he has no desire to devote any more time to him.

Nova peeks up at the TARDIS shyly. "Can we... can we visit the butterflies?" she asks.