[ harrow's promise is- unexpected, but not unwelcome. definitely not unwelcome. if nothing else, she can point to this moment and grind her necromancer's face into it every time it comes up from here on out. and maybe it's that small amelioration that makes her willing to take harrow at her word. not blindly, of course. but-

this isn't what harrowhark nonagesimus looks like when she's hiding something in silence. this is a harrow who's evaluated the evidence and found it didn't apply. ]

Alright. [ hearing an agreement from harrow's lips, even when she's the one forming the words, feels sacrilegious. like a blessed sister is about to rap her knuckles with a ruler made of bone. ] So you came here straight from Canaan House, and I came here from across the galaxy. So you're saying... what, time travel? Is that even a thing?

[ a beat. and then, in a flat tone that just might still carry a bit of the actual worry behind it: ]

Tell me that's not a thing.