A quiet chuff of amusement left the Maiden's lips. Medic, Cleric, Healer... all are things I have been called, yes. She glanced up at him. Was there an error in his dictions? She canted her head slightly.

Rhadamanthus. The name rolled off her tongue in near silence, her lips curling, committing the title to memory. I am... Siru. She returned—a name she'd adopted on a whim, for 'Mielikki' was a title reserved for a Goddess.

This was not Kalevala. She was no longer Mielikki.

For a moment, her breath stuttered; she faced a bizarre state of affairs... to say the least. Bound to this mortal vessel, bedecked with fur of lilac and eyes of muted gray. A tongue rasped over her nose—an action so natural now in the body of a beast... yet, she could not fathom doing so deliberately.

She sucked in a breath and rose to her feet once again. You don't need to apologize for anything, she began. It's been odd... for everyone, I imagine. She halted by the treeline, facing the westward ocean. That may as well be the only thing I'm certain about, when it comes to this place. She turned to look at Rhadamanthus as he sat along the snowbank. ...it's strange here.