six impossible things before breakfast

For a moment, she stared at his outstretched hand as though it was a viper. He had made water move with it, and for all that her mind refused to accept the reality of magic being real - even as he kept making the rain behave very strangely - she was a bit wary too. And not really used to shaking hands. It seemed so... formal. Old school.

But being rude was possibly even worse, so she took it, and shook it, and found it shockingly normal. Solid, not very warm, except compared to her own icy fingers. "I'm Petra," she mumbled, and quickly let go again. Retreating back into her bubble, where it felt marginally more safe.

Answers to life, universe and everything, indeed. "Fortytwo," she said automatiskt, and laughed with a note of hysteria as she realized he wouldn't get the joke. "Sorry, that was, ah... yeah, questions." She picked her way gingerly over the ground, bare feet proving slow and tender over the stony ground. Her head was woefully blank.

"Uhm.. Why? Why am I here, I mean. I really hope this isn't some divine call for heroes to fight evil, because I'm definitely not the fighting type." Which her squishy body and wild grimaces as pebbles ate into her feet should prove beyond any doubt.