"There is a light behind your eyes that makes you who you are, Comrade Cecil. I could read it, if you were dead, but that seems like a bit much to assure you of what I already know - you can't be hollow under it. Hollow people die, and they don't come back." They sigh, and kinda. Hug Cecil, one arm across his shoulders. "It hurts to look inward at your wounds, doesn't it?"