“…Worms?” Lucia Corina looks down at the floor, like it will hold some kind of answers, but it’s wet enough near this balcony that no worms are visible. “There really is an entire ecosystem on this boat. How bizarre. I think it’s a boat, anyway, despite its astonishing size. Buildings don’t move this much, in my experience.” She blinks and brings herself back to the conversation. “I would certainly find myself startled if worms started climbing up my legs. Entirely understandable.”

“Wrong side of every plant?” She pats vaguely at her dripping hair and produces a twig with leaves coming off of it. “This—oh. That’s odd. I haven’t seen this type of tree since—“ She cuts herself off, not trying to hide anything so much as trying to avoid thinking about something. “I would have noticed if something this unpleasantly familiar was growing here. I haven’t recognized a single plant here. Or anything else here, for that matter. The walls, your clothing…” She gestures helplessly. “I am not usually so out of my depth. I make something of a profession of history, in fact.”