Valeshiel does not actually immediately have a snappy reply to that. That... just sounds awful, really.

She considers possible things she could say, and eventually awkwardly settles on: "... I'm sorry."

...This is apparently almost as confusing as the whole incident was in the first place.

But: "...thanks," he says, after a moment.

She nods, once, a little uncomfortable with squidgy feelings.

"My entrance was not quite so... grand. I was asleep, and then I was abruptly here. I'd suspect foul play, if I didn't think I'd spot the culprit before they tried anything."

"...while you were asleep?"

She smiles brilliantly at him. It's a very pretty smile. "Do you not see better while you're dreaming? A pity, it's quite fun."

He is so confused.

(And the pleasant temperature is beginning to fade back into the heat of the desert.)

Oh, fine, she'll explain. She guesses.

"Hags are a monstrous set of creatures that steal into the dreams of mortals for their own amusement or to torment them. Often both. I, being the daughter of a hag, have a similar set of abilities."

"...huh. There's nothing like that at all where I'm from."

"No? No horrible hideous monsters, stealing into your dreams and your town and your bed, to seduce and then devour innocent victims alive?" Pause. "Good! Because they're very irritable and have the most loathsome breath."

...he giggles.

"And the voices! Screeching incessantly like old rusted hinges that have grown a sense of entitlement and a hatred for all sapient life. No, you're better off without them."

"Wow, that's an image," he says, snickering.

"I take some measure of joy in using words to weave evocative images."

"Unfortunately, this quality might be quickly wasted in a desert wasteland. It's so hard to weave anything with words when they all come from a parched throat. Do your temperature powers extend to making or finding food, water, and shelter?"

He blinks. "My what?"

"The temperature around you has been fluctuating, I believe in accordance with your mood. It was ice cold when you first landed, and has shifted since."

"...I didn't notice. So, uh, maybe??"

"Not a powerset you had before?"

"No??? People having powers like that is not even a thing where I'm from."

"Congratulations on your newfound extraordinary talents?"

"Thanks, I guess."

"Is it something you can control consciously?"

"Why would I know that?"

"That was more of an invitation for experimentation than a question."

"I don't—know how to try," he says, frustrated. Fire flickers over his skin; he doesn't appear to notice immediately.