She's very serene. Gideon, raised in the endless implacable gloom of Drearburh, finds it both familiar and a little disconcerting. By now Harrow would have already hissed at her to be quiet multiple times.

"Yeah?" She'd taken too large a gulp of tea, and now her tongue and throat sting and her eyes are watering behind her sunglasses. "Why, who are they?"