Lirael watches how the dog skids and hits the shelve, perplexed, but says nothing. Could be a sending anyway, albeit one lacking the mannerisms of its shape. She can't sense its Charter marks though, which makes her a bit uneasy. No scent of Free Magic either. Curious.

He does look strange, although Lirael, in her light blue tunic (linen pants underneath), white scarf loosely wrapped on her head (barely covering her black hair), wrap-up ankle high sandals and her yellow vest isn't precisely the spitting image of normalcy. Less elaborated, perhaps.

"You...don't?" She lowers her hands, taking a tentative step towards him. "Me neither."

She's still talking really low by the way.