[ Hob looks a little shaken by the image that conjures. Since he doesn't know Dream's son, he can only imagine his own boy in such a position and the thought makes him shudder.

A hand is placed on Dream's shoulder, firm enough to be felt but not rough. Just an attempt at comfort. ]

I'm sorry. This place is cruel.

[ For a second, he remembers Johanna's theory about how this place uses their own memories as a weapon against them. After a moment, he feels the need to share more about his own experience. ]

It was an old love, that I saw. She died during the blitzkrieg. A bombing trapped us in a cellar. We ran out of air.

[ Maybe that's why the ghost was clawing at his throat. Hob didn't die of a lack of oxygen, but she did. ]