I wonder, then, if anything in this world is familiar? Even our own evils have failed to follow us here. I haven't heard fearful whispers of voidsent in the night, nor warnings of familiar beastkin. In turn, I worry sometimes that we are beyond the reach of the Twelve.

[Sounds like someone has a couple unanswered prayers, at least. Though, easily, he says: ]

Blessed is an encounter that is merely awkward and not bloody. Did she act as an ordinary woman might, then?