"I can't understand a damn word you're saying," he says. Still in English. "Uh, come in, I guess? You probably can't understand a word I'm saying either."
"Hi. You're not summony girl," he says.
He takes the paper and pencil, and goes to sit on the edge of the bed where his blanket will be in its natural habitat if it falls away from his shoulders, and puts the paper on the desk and writes: What?
In English.
That was weird. That was extremely weird.
Into bed he re-flops. But he's not as sleepy now. Confusion is not renowned for its sedative properties.
"Why would I know why you were here? Why are you here? I am the most confused I have ever been in my life," he says.
"I did? I'm pretty sure I didn't," he says. "What's it say?"
"...That's... weird on so many levels I'm not sure I can count them," he says. "I don't speak vampire. I definitely can't read or write vampire. I've never prayed for a little paper with wings in my life. And it has my name on it. Well, the name I picked ten minutes ago when somebody asked me for one. Still my name, sort of."
"That's - how magic works in my world. You wish or pray for things, and sometimes you get them. I've heard it's different here, though. But I haven't made it any non-magical way either, and I feel like I'd remember doing that, and I have no idea who you are and no way of getting little paper circles to you if I made them, so 'made a weird wish and forgot about it' is at least slightly more plausible."
"It's different here," she confirms. "Or it was, anyway. But a couple degrees ago I got a - a choice if I wanted to keep some magic I have, or not, and I kept it, and I also got this little piece of paper, and the magic I kept lets me hear what objects say, and this paper says you made it, and they're never wrong."
"Wishing counts. Okay, so... I guess I brought my world's magic with me? Probably lucky for your world. Magic's nice."