In her heart of blackened hearts, on a layer she doesn't share even with herself, Harrow had hoped that the gift might merit a hug. Now, hearing Gideon's profession of simple faith, she launches herself forward and embraces her cavalier. She is not--remotely--strong enough to lift her off the ground as Gideon once did for her, but she squeezes her fiercely and tightly. With her sharp angles and high body heat, it's a little like being hugged by a radiator.

"Oh Griddle," she says. "You say the nicest things."