Far from being presumptuous, Fever is listening, letting her hands lie quiet next to her. Not working seems strange to her, not talking to others - these things had not been in her head. So many times, she's simply worked through it, told herself to keep going, figured it out. Keeping busy will fix it, attend to the problems of others, do something. And yet Anzu is saying otherwise. Saying she could think to mourn.

(And at the center, a revelation - that the concept no longer tugs at her mind in strange ways. No more being steered away from the thought. That part of her is free now.)

"I've never been able to do that before."

Not beyond adding to a list of names kept, names of those absent from her life that she would remember.