[ She smiles as she watches the petting and the moogle's pleased reaction, but it's slightly uneasy too. Her own moogle is keeping about two feet's distance from her, at her request.

She catches on quickly that he's introduced himself and in fact bows in return, one hand at her chest. ] I am Agnès Oblige, vestal of wind. [ If there are crystals in this world, she's still a vestal--it seems plain enough in her mind. As she straightens, she looks to the side at her own moogle. ] This one does the same. I suppose it's a quirk of theirs.

What do you make of the legend? That we were prophesied to come here? [ She feels fairly confident that if he's been asking a lot of questions, his moogle would have mentioned it, as hers did. ]