Mortals are fragile to Diana

She was eerily light, almost insubstantial.  It was like holding up a sparrow’s body between her cupped hands.  No wonder the sea had made such easy sport of this creature and her crewmates; she felt temporary,  like an artist’s cast of a body rendered in plaster.
...
She locked her hands together and pressed.  The girl’s bones bent beneath her palms.  Hurriedly, Diana drew back.  What was this girl made of, anyway?  Balsa wood?  She felt about as solid as the little models of world monuments Diana had been forced to build for class.