"Okay. Do you mind if I make a call to the people who have the bestiary, uh, witch lady?"

"Uh huh. Alright, book, off you go. Sheriff, my apologies for not turning over the weapon quite yet."

She peers at Matt, trying to sort of... Poke around the edges of the weird magic.

"No, no, I don't understand any of what's going on here and you obviously have the power to handle it until I get my bearings. I hope you'll defer to me as the local authority when I do."

"Scott, after your phone call, we should talk."

"Okay. I'm going to call the hunters."

And he does. It looks like a tense conversation.

It might degrade her tentative authority over the situation to ask 'What's a phone?'. So she doesn't. She does take a closer look around the room though.

The room resembles most bureaucratic systems. Lots of paperwork and documentation of ongoing criminal cases and unsolved murders. 

There are a lot of unsolved murders in this town, and they cover bulletin boards throughout the room.

There are desks for various deputies and the sheriff's office near the back of the room, furthest from the door.

Most of the action is taking place in the main work space, though the woman is in a cell in a nearby room.

Aaaand now lizard thing is done being tied up by multiple passes of thick, waxy rope in a way that should be rather constraining but not quite as actively uncomfortable as before. She lets the golden bands disappear and lowers him to the floor. "So can you talk? And can you answer questions with nods and shakes?"

It tilts its head as though able to hear her but not understand her. 

The conversation on the phone is getting a bit heated now.

This is getting old fast. "Phone guy, don't start another fight okay? Who are you even talking to?"

He mouths 'Hold on' and holds up a hand as a signal to wait. "No. She called herself a witch...I didn't bring her here, I don't have any magic. Please, it doesn't matter who brings the book...okay, we'll be waiting."

She taps her metal flying thing with her fingernails impatiently.

To the woman in the cell, "Ma'am, are you in there for a sensible reason or just because of the guy who had the gun?"

...That smell. That, over there, is a pot of coffee. Cold, which is almost blasphemous, but she could use the caffeine. "And is anybody going to do something stupid if I stop paying attention for the ten seconds I need to pour a cup of coffee?"

"Because of the guy with the gun. You can ask the sheriff or check case files if you want to be careful, though. It's not that uncomfortable to be in one of these for less than an hour."

"I don't think anyone should mind," he says, putting away his phone. 

"Now I'm not claiming any kind of official authority here, I'm probably very lost too, I'm just saying I'm probably the reason nobody's been shot by now and I plan to continue serving in this capacity." She gets a cup of coffee, black, and drinks it very fast.

"We appreciate that," the sheriff says, unlocking the cell door. 

"As much as this crisis situation was apparently way over my head, I do think I'll need to be a mediator between, uh, magical teenagers and foreign witches and the rest of the world." 

"How does the witch thing work, exactly? Are you a species, is that a job, is this too personal to ask?"

"Subspecies, by most definitions. Sometimes perfectly ordinary little girls turn out to have magic when they become teenagers. We're pretty common, hence my assuming I've managed to get teleported to an alternate world or something."

"Scott, maybe you should explain the part where you know about magic, which exists."

"I'll explain everything when we get home. I've been staying safe."

"Do you have any idea how you got here? Is teleportation common among witches?"

"I was heading off to fight a monster, our teleporter sent me here instead. Without the rest of them. I hope they're safe."

She shakes her head.

"Teleportation is not common. I know one teleporter personally, and I know of less than ten total. If I guessed I'd say there's two hundred teleporters the world over, tops."

"If you need somewhere to stay, or food to eat, we'll all help. 

"That discussion can wait until nobody's going to be at each others' throats if I walk away, I think."

"Yeah, the supernatural politics is really mind-numbing around here."