"No, no." A wag of the finger, less scolding and more just habitual punctuation. The man talks with his hands. "You fell out of the sky. I came from my mother's—"

Somewhere nearby, a dog barks loudly.

"But I'll give you the kneecaps." Wait, will he? He files back through the rough slew of questions pressed and answered. Squints. Gives her a look to confirm— "Cultist kneecaps?" Right?