She blinks at him, her manner changing sharply from profound irritation to surprise and a bothersome lack of balance. Zagreus had been the entity she most wished to meet out of all the largely unhelpful creatures who contacted her, mostly so she could determine what, exactly, his deal is.

"Zagreus," she says, demeanor changing once more to smooth unconcern. Finally. "Oh, it is a pleasure. You'll have to excuse my - mm. Inconsistency." Admitting fault is such a trial. She can do it on those rare occasions that she deems it necessary. And with so interesting - and, she suspects, so fickle a being - a little humility is tolerable. "Lately the parts of me that usually handle stressful situations have been a little, well, gone." She looks him up and down. He is not what she expected, but then, she didn't know what to expect. "I'm sure it's nothing that time can't fix."