Good thing he isn't fruit. Nor fish, fowl, red herring, etc. Nothing induces more smugness in Zagreus than turning up in someone's blind spot and causing them to startle. But he hadn't been precisely trying for it this time; this dreamer just seems especially on edge, if her tone is anything to judge by. He shrugs, the picture of unconcern. "It's a garden, in a dream, as I said. You're in it, because you're asleep, and the Rift chooses for you to be," he says this with exaggerated patience, over not-so-hidden glee. Terrible circumstances are less terrible when you get to explain them to some other poor suffering soul. Who will then hopefully say how terrible it is, so he can feel vindicated. "You're probably actually in Manhattan. Usually the dreams are better than this." He gives the garden a once-over that clearly finds it lacking, sniffs a gossipy cocktail party sniff.