Well. He already knew that whatever was happening had to be very weird. He supposes he'll just have to keep paying attention for now. 

The woman tromps around a bit, careful not to step on the lavender, looking for a hiding child and giving Atennesi a wide berth. Then she huffs. "You can understand me, you just have a sore throat?" she says.

He nods. 

"Okay. Can you stay right here, so you don't get anyone else sick, while I go to the nearest village and tell them what's happened?"

He tilts his head, and blinks and looks confused, and shakes his head. 

"- you can't stay here, you'd wander off?"

He shakes his head again, then bends, takes a pinch of dirt that isn't attached to any lavender, stands, throws the dirt, points to the resulting dust in the air, then mimes inhaling deeply then coughing violently. 

"...okay. So you don't think you're contagious, and you'll be able to talk soon?"

He nods. 

"I didn't hear you coughing. How long have you been here, hold up one finger per hour -"

He hesitates, and then raises one finger to the first knuckle. 

"Then I ought to have heard you coughing - I ought to have noticed whoever made you -"

He tilts his head and looks puzzled. 

"I didn't make you! Don't even think it!" she exclaims, horrified.

He looks surprised. 

"Did you - did you just walk here, from somewhere else -"

He makes a so-so gesture. 

"...bicycle?" she says hopefully.

He cocks his head, then shrugs. 

"I suppose considering how much it looks like a criminal wandered onto my farm, made you, and ran off I probably shouldn't assume your memories are accurate," she muses. "Who knows what they'd put in your head. Well. Will you walk with me to the village?"

He nods. 

She sets off through the lavender field.

He takes magical snapshots of the planet thing going back at intervals of a month to start with, over the past five years. 

No one performs magic he can recognize on this planet.

They have moveable type for their dizzyingly complicated writing system, bicycles, and weird boat things that float at the tops of tall buildings in three of the villages.

Sometimes, adults who weren't there last month appear; but sometimes people come and go via boat-thing.

The weather doesn't follow an obvious seasonal pattern; there is snow and fog and rain and (mostly) clear weather.

...Those boat-things do not look like they would non-magically succeed as lighter-than-air craft. He's never heard of something non-magically succeeding as heavier-than-air craft. That's...very, very strange.

Huh. That...appears to be where gravity stops. Well, that's...interesting. 

...Something niggles at the back of his mind. What's the age distribution like?