It's a little hard to pay attention to the conversation when he seems a split second away from falling to his death. Biscuit makes a questioning sound, but Asmodia just waves a hand at him vaguely, shushing him. She shuffles forward, holding fast with her tail as she tests how far out she can reach -- no, not far enough. Her breath catches when he moves again and sends bark falling, and she finds herself wishing she had even something mundane like a rope to toss out to him.
"Oh? I, um, traveled with a group that -- wait, space?" Her reminiscences about Pathfinder-style 'archaeology' (of which Daniel will no doubt disapprove very strongly whenever she does get around to telling him about it) are interrupted by her befuddlement over what he even means by the word 'space.' "...What kind of space?" she asks, baffled. Isn't everything 'space'?
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"Oh? I, um, traveled with a group that -- wait, space?" Her reminiscences about Pathfinder-style 'archaeology' (of which Daniel will no doubt disapprove very strongly whenever she does get around to telling him about it) are interrupted by her befuddlement over what he even means by the word 'space.' "...What kind of space?" she asks, baffled. Isn't everything 'space'?