It's about the last lingering dredges of what Wei Wuxian's used to offering; hugs are being trained back into him by a son or two, and a close friend's grief.

He clucks his tongue against his teeth, considering. "I only feel edges to what's going on, all this energy. I don't know what kind of 'out there' exists, but we could try looking." Traveling seemed to be oddly circular to his senses, and that's difficult to really anticipate. When can he convince the reinforcements of a boundary to allow him to go a direction the boundary refused access?