[Her expression softens as he speaks of his friend, his family; she knows what it's like to let your mind spiral on those you've left behind. It had happened after she'd sailed away from Themyscira, and again when she had woken up here. There's no true escape from that wrenching feeling in your gut that something is unfinished, that you might never be able to return and find closure. Might never have an ending.

So she doesn't ask. Later, some day, if he wants to talk about them all, she would happily listen. But for now, her attention appears to remain on the eggs. Diana has never been one to pry, not considering all the secrets she keeps.]

Certainly. Perhaps if I'd done the same, I'd be further along with my culinary skills. As things stand, the street food here is excellent.

[She's mostly over the fact that she eats insects on a daily basis. Mostly.]