Wow! Those are some weird looking lizards! They’ll do a slow, light scan of their minds to try to get a sense of their intelligence without disturbing them too much. If they killed that moose themselves, they’ll make excellent weapons. Maybe even mounts.

Now that they know they’re far from home, they’re going to have to be less squeamish about using somewhat intelligent animals as thralls, but they’d like to know what they’re going to do before they do it.

Fortunately, these drakes are dumb as bricks. If the mind of a human is like air to move through,  and the corvid is like water, then the mind of these drakes is like a sugar syrup; the resistance is high enough to be annoying, to slow access to the mind, but ultimately not a true barrier. 

And once they do have access, Seliun finds very little. They're not really stupid, ultimately, they have plenty of raw processing power, but they have one-dimensional, raptorial minds - like an owl or an eagle, all thier cognitive effort is spent searching the world for signs of food or danger. These two are a mated pair and love each other dearly, but they wouldn't consider any other drake anything but a threat. There's really not much they don't class as a threat or a meal, really. They're not really capable of planning, and their main emotions are the aching hunger of something that just woke up from hibernation and joy at having a good meal together. 

The resistance is unexpected. Before Selivu was created, some of the individuals involved in their creation were already weak psychics, and faced similar levels of resistance when trying to use psychic abilities on humans. That’s how far back they have to look in their memories to have a point of comparison. 

The resistance in combination with the low intelligence is even more unexpected. Intelligence and innate psychic ability do not increase in lockstep, but there is a correlation, generally. 

Unexpected developments aside, they’ll control the drakes and add them to their own subnetwork, separate from the other animals. It’s mostly for organizational purposes, it’ll make it easier to make the drakes do one thing and the rest to do another. 

They’ll root deeper through their memories a little for anything of note, then continue walking. The drakes can have their fill of their meal, however long that might take. They don’t want to have to worry about feeding them. They’ll want to investigate their flying abilities, but that can wait.

They’ll also cycle out their crowd of forest critters for new ones and read their memories. It very well could be that the other ones had only never seen humans because they only inhabit a tiny section of the forest.

The drakes finish eating pretty quickly, they're gluttons at heart. Seliun can presumably benefit from adding the (mundane, here) corvids that are attracted by the carrion, and who are lurking on the edge of the forest until the predators are done. 

The drakes are by far and away the widest-ranging creatures here, having on occasion flown dozens or hundreds of kilometres, and joy of joys, they're aware of a location that has a perpetual plume of smoke coming from what looks awfully like a chimney of some kind, deep in the forest. It's about 50 kilometres away, about 150 degrees off from their current direction of travel, quite outside the normal travel range of any of the smaller critters. 

They’ll add the birds, the drakes are hungry.

The chimney is… interesting. Promising. Weird.

They’ll head in that direction, drakes leading. They could send the drakes ahead and check it out that way, but they suspect a human body is best for whatever they’ll encounter there. Besides, the human body is best for conducting psychic abilities. They’ll plan on walking for about 5 hours today, weather permitting.

Ideally they would keep some record of the approximate area they appeared before abandoning it. They’ll have the lemming left at camp dig a large shallow circle in the dirt to help identify the site later, then release control over it. 

Travel is uneventful, for the first few days. The weather stays cold, but clear, no storms running through, which is fortunate. Not much wants to pick a fight with the drakes, and they can easily be fed mind-controlled deer or moose as such animals are found. 

On the third day of walking, Seliun stumbles upon a clearing, a little valley, through which runs a stream, just barely melted enough to flow, still with bits of ice and frost along it's edges. The ground is covered in a layer of bright green - plants not unlike bluebells, the first small herbs they've really seen in this world still slowly waking from winter, and every plant has a spray of flowers. Within each flower is a point of light, bright and rich and glowing blue or white or gold, suspended there by no clear means. There are a few bees about, but it's still the relatively cool morning and presumably more will arrive with the warmth of noon (or what passes for it in this cold climate). 

They’re quite pretty. They’ll - poke one of the lights with a stick to see if it’s safe, then put their hand near one. Are they warm?

It’s too bad plants don’t have minds, they would like to know what’s going on here. It seems like - natural magic, a low and simple magic. It would seem that magic is common in this place, as opposed to being a rare oddity almost everywhere back home.

The lights are, perhaps, very very slightly warm, but it's hard to tell. They seem entirely harmless, no more or less than light. A bee will buzz with annoyance, when the stick gets too close to it.

Interesting. They’ll give the clearing another once-over in case they missed anything, they continue on their journey.

There is a spring, burbling up from the deep, which is what feeds the stream, and perhaps provides more esoteric forms of power for the plants as well, from somewhere deep below, but no. This field is rather heterogenous in it's makeup - the flowers vary in colour, but they're clearly all of the same kind. 

After a few more days, they grow near to the place they are trying to reach, and start to see it in the memories of the animals they take control over, particularly the little birds which flit everywhere without a care, full of a kilogram of ego in fifty grams of bird. The home appears to be an old-fashioned log cabin, of the sort which has been seen throughout history, with a sod roof that's currently still covered in snow, and dirt and firewood piled up on every side but the front for insulation. It's inhabited by an old woman who appears to live alone, tending to a small garden and hunting game, and more importantly, doing magic. Her cauldron often emits strange scents and colours and all of the animals know not to go near the pit where she dumps it's contents, out the back, carefully isolated from the outhouse and the compost piles. Animals have seen her cut down trees with a gesture and then telekinetically drag away the logs, or conjure fire to drive off wolves, or on one particularly dramatic occasion, put down a blizzard with an hour's entreaty to some outside force. She is clearly quite old, and quite powerful, but she lives alone, far from any other humans. 

Humanity! Of a sort. They’ll try to make a good first impression. Hermits have a reputation for being crotchety, and being an immensely powerful hermit probably doesn’t make you less crotchety. It’s good to know the magic of this place can be harnessed. They’d like information from this women, and if that information included how to learn to do what she knows how to do, all the better.

When they eventually get within visual range of her territory, they’ll change formation such that most of the animals are hang back, the human body leads, the drakes and corvid follow at a distance. They don’t want to appear too threatening. They’re not sure what the best approach would be, so they’ll wait near the edge of what the animals here think of as her territory, and see how long it takes to be acknowledged.

There is a raven, with a mind which is entirely closed off (perhaps the barrier is not strong, but how do you determine the strength of a strange barrier without pushing on it?) watching them, after a while. It will wait, and see what she does. 

Hm. They’ll - smile and wave? They’re unsure what the best way to communicate is in this situation. They might not have a common language.

“Hello there. I am very lost and am seeking information”, they say, first in German, then Latin, then Polish, then Macedonian, fifteen more languages after that, pausing each time to see how the raven acknowledges it. They’ll also try to have the corvid signal friendliness and needing-something to the raven, maybe corvids have compatible body language.

On the Polish, the raven cocks its head, and flies off. A few minutes later, the old woman comes stalking out of the woods, leaning heavily on her cane. 

"You know, I've never heard an accent like that before in my life. Where the world are you from, girl?" Her own accent is similarly strange, but it's comprehensible Polish. 

(They really weren’t expecting that one to work, of all languages. They’re pretty sure they’re not in Poland… but only pretty sure.)

“I think I am from somewhere very far away. Where I come from, the stars are in a different pattern, and there are no birds that throw metal or flowers that produce light. This place has much more magic than I knew existed. What is the name of this place?”

"This little place of mine has no particular name, but I suspect you're asking on a grander scale than that. We are in the land of no nation, but the nearest nation is Eldemar. The continent is Altazia, and the planet is Eretsu. Those names are common everywhere the Ikosans went, and they were like bloody rats. Unless you're from Hsan?" 

They considered themself to be from and of themselves, sovereign from any nation. But that’s a complicated conversation and they don’t want to start out this conversation with “I’m a hivemind”, that usually requires a gentle approach.

“I’m originally from the nation of Prussia, in the continent of Europe, on the planet Earth”, they say. It’s arguably completely true, part of them is originally from Prussia. “I was caving with a crew in the Americas, another continent, when I suddenly found myself in the wilderness near here. I have… a natural gift with animals, and I’m used to surviving in nature, so I’ve fared well so far. I’ve never heard of any of those places.”

"A natural gift, eh? I know what the minds of those drakes can be like, your family must be quite something. Why don't you come in, and we can have a nice civilized chat by the fire." 

Ah, maybe psionics are a known thing here. The family comment implies it may be more of a heritable ability here than a learned skill.

They’re a little bit suspicious of the woman’s hospitality, but maybe it’s the culture here.

“I would appreciate that, thank you.”

The they will return to the wooden hut. Naturally, all of the animals need to be left outside; it's a small enough building for a person, let alone a drake. Inside, there is a bed, a bookshelf with a sparse selection of books and the rest of the space filled with potion-bottles in a myriad of shapes and colours. The rafters are strung with herbs and animal-parts of all sorts, and in one corner there's a box overflowing with strange minerals. The warded crow (the witch herself is similarly warded, a clear surface standing between her mind and everything else) from before sits on a perch besides a little reading-desk, and there is a hearth, made of stone that appears to have been fused together into one mass suitable to contain a fire, with a great cauldron sitting in it, which is currently half-full of stew. The witch sits on a rocking-chair by the fire, and invites Seliun to sit on the less-comfortable desk chair. She sets a teapot to boil on the fire. 

"So. I'm Esme Napurzy. What's your name, then, girl?" 

Family names are a thing here. They’ll use one, then. “Seliun Selivu.” They look around. “You have a nice home”, they smile.

"Thank you. All the work of my own hands. So, what can you tell me about this situation you find yourself in?"

“Not much more than what I already said, really. I don’t understand how I got here, I’ve never heard of magic moving people to new locations, let alone to what sounds to be another world.”

"Dimensionalism is an obscure and difficult branch of Ikosan spellcraft, with few specialists and fewer masters. Teleportation, the use of magical to move instantly from one place to another, is one of it's most famous techniques. Moving to another world is beyond what any documented master of the art can do, but not so far beyond plausibility that people do not make up rumours." 

All of the magical terminology is loanwords, from a language which is most definitely not Polish. Probably, it's related to whatever influences produce that accent of hers.