So, it seems when it comes to the varying points in time the Rift doesn't discriminate. Mako from the future in relation to Manhattan, Greta from the past, and the Balladeer - she can't entirely discern what time period from which he might have been displaced. There's a lot about him she can't seem to read, including his relative ease in acclimatizing with each new environment, though that could simply mean he's been here for a lot longer, long enough to grow accustomed to such changes.

She looks back down at the horse, who snorts and tosses its head in a manner that might indicate discomfort, or impatience, or any number of things she doesn't know how to interpret.

"I don't know what it is we're supposed to be doing," she confesses. "All the other places had an objective, but this place - "

A shrieking roar cuts her off, and a dark, sprawling shadow passes over the both of them, blotting out the sun. She looks up and catches a glimpse of leathery wings, curved claws, the gray shimmer of a scaly hide, and her stomach plummets.