"And I suppose Shura is approximately yea big too and she's going to make me feel like I'm already arthritic and forgetting why I walked into rooms?"
"I wasn't really expecting to be interesting enough for two universes to have me in them," muses Serah, craning her neck to look for a younger version of herself.
Helen, of course, lifts herself on her cloud-pine until she is high enough to survey most of the room.
"Hi, Shura! I found your alt! She's from Samaria and she's human and forty or something."
"You don't really look forty-something," she says consideringly upon coming face-to-face with Serah.
"That's because I'm not," says Serah, with a reproachful glance at Helen.
"That sounds closer," agrees Shura. "And you don't have a daemon either. This doesn't get any less weird anytime soon, does it?"
"I don't have a what now?"
(Nicoa is not in immediate evidence.)
"A daemon," says Helen. "People have them in Alethia. They're like your soul walking around outside your body as an animal. My Kalavar's a teratorn, and Shura's Nicoa is a ptarmigan."
"I don't know what either of those are," says Serah. "Why would your soul do that? Isn't that dangerous?"
"That's just how it works in our world. It's dangerous sometimes, but I still wouldn't want it any other way."
"I couldn't begin to tell you. If most worlds don't have them isn't it yours that's weird?"
"Hmph."