[There is no end of questions running through Dorothea’s head right now, that much is true, and they only grow in number with each new brief fact Syrlya lays out for her. Another world? What could possibly have drawn her—and others, if he’s speaking true—all the way out here?

She has no reason not to take him at his word for the moment, considering her current predicament. But, well. Where to even start?]

That’s… a lot to take in. [She laughs, a small, exasperated thing. That lingering tension of his doesn’t escape her notice, and it only seems to amplify her own. It’s quite obvious why she would be on edge here, but if he is as well, she can only imagine something must be amiss.]

I’m Dorothea. And you’re right, I have nothing but questions for you, Syrlya. Though I get the feeling they might be better suited for somewhere… safer, perhaps?

[And somewhere where she's clothed in more than a borrowed cloak, as grateful as she is for it.]