It sends an uncomfortable pearl of ice down the back of her neck when he utters her name, but you'd never suspect that from the serene smile she flashes the both of them. There doesn't seem to be any recognition on the shopkeeper's face — only more confusion over the odd foreigner who seems to him a little too excited for such worrisome news and mundane chores — and so she goes with it.

"Thank you kindly; you've been most helpful."

She makes her way to Gene's side as they leave the shop. The dust in the late-day sun looks all the more thick after being inside; but there is a constant line of traffic down the thoroughfare, horses and foot traffic alike, bearing dowsing rods and sundries.

She glances at Gene.

"I'm gonna hafta learn you how t'speak Southern."