[He doesn't dare even think about touching the watery forms above them, too scared his existent itself will cause them to pop, to wither, to disperse. It's not unlike what he thinks already about himself and others, himself and more fragile things he can destroy easily, like humans.]

The longer you live, the more you're burdened by living. It's why humans live so little. So they don't forget all the things that make living wonderful. So that things change rather than remain stagnant.

[He still doesn't entirely think they are dead--or, rather, there is no way back to the lives they had. But he supposes they may be dead now.]