She evinces no desire to supervise.

"Let me know if you need me to buy you hotel rooms or make you dinner or something."

And he goes to poke and prod an Amentan basement dweller for a while.

Someone stops by.

"Hey."

"Hi. Wow, that's disconcerting. I suppose it's probably good you can't do people. You okay?"

"...I'm fine? Why do you ask?"

"Aliens with dubious moral sensibilities have overrun the magic bar where you're waiting on resurrection to save a million civilian casualties of a horrifying war with an evil god and now they're trying to get your help for mass nonconsensual magic chemotherapy so they can pretend their sanitation workers aren't gross. And apparently we have disconcerting Elf lookalikes. It sounds stressful."

"It's kind of stressful but it's a change of pace from round-the-clock Elf resurrection, so there's that - is there a reason you're minding my stress levels, I'm not going to suddenly snap -"

"Aitim says you are the most stable miserable person he has ever met. I asked if you were doing okay without any high-stakes secret motives at all - though don't tell him that, he likes to think he'll rub off on me eventually. Should I cease interrupting? I got the sense time here is - determinedly doing its own thing - but I'd be happy to leave you in peace."

"Time is doing that. If you want to watch me determine how many ribs your species has be my guest."

"I'd'a been a paramedic if I was orange." He sits down.

"You lot might decide I was orange, all told. Mom was a kindergarten teacher. I taught summoning, after that was a thing you could do. Then I died and among other things went to med school. Also picked up miscellaneous engineering and the violin, though."

"It's matrilineal some places. Not Anitam. They'll be more condescending if you start identifying as orange, though."

"I don't identify as a caste, that seems like a foolish thing to do."

"Just a bit. My cousins do it but I don't think they'd really contest 'foolish' as a description."

Snort. "What's your name, is it like 'Findekáno' but with bits chopped off each end?"

"Kan. So yes, I guess, but quite a few bits."

Nod.

He raises an eyebrow but observes quietly.

Cam is carefully documenting his inspection of the systems of his basement dweller, which at this point he is no longer bothering to keep alive, so he can turn the results over to a medical angel.

He is reading through terse summaries of planet plans and annotating with an approximately even mix of feedback and comments which will force Aitim to practice keeping a straight face.

Eventually Cam is all done. He bags the basement dweller. "Should I self-immolate, since I just touched what is arguably a dead body?"

" - uh, you just have to take a shower."

"Do I just have to take a shower or do I have to take a special, ritual shower."

" - okay, you have to take a special ritual shower. I guess having never set myself on fire I can't say which is more hassle but setting oneself on fire sure sounds like more hassle in several different respects."