[I'm not a trained bat throws her off a bit, and she gives him a dumb, quizzical look, her lips already forming a bemused huh? Drearburh would be the perfect place for bats, that dull, dark cave carved down toward the planet's core-- it would, if anything lived there at all besides the dreary little cult that had built up around a dead monster's tomb. Nothing else thrives in that artificial place, and even the shadow cult she'd been dropped amongst as a baby can at best be described as malingering. She's never seen a bat, can't discern his meaning.

But he's already gesturing toward the kitchen table, and whilst there's still the excitable twitch of anticipation in her, the high-wheeling animal joy that moves through her the moment before a fight, the prospect of food is almost as good. It's a pleasure that has come to her late, when for years food had meant nothing to her besides the grim and mechanical act of refuelling. The tasteless gruel spiked with nutrient paste and gritty snow leaks for flavour, consumed only to pile in enough calories to keep her active and strong. That food can be good is a relatively new revelation, and so she moves to sit with an uncharacteristic obedience, reaching for bread and butter and that sweet-smelling gelatinous stuff almost as soon as it's placed down in front of her.]

Spoilsport. And I guess I just kinda...wandered in? I'm still getting the hang of this whole Horizon thing, and I was just kind of exploring, you know? All of a sudden there were trees and other plant stuff, and this kinda...wet...cloud hanging in the air. I just wandered around in it for a while until I smelt something cooking, and then I found you!

[She adds this last part brightly, before stuffing her mouth with jam-slathered bread.]