[As she's straightening herself back up, she's still turning everything over in her head. She isn't sure she's supposed to be here. A part of this conversation. Standing in front of him. She also understands, however, that if this is a dream, much of what's around her is likely not even real.

Even in a dreamscape, however, it is possible to be hurt. It is possible to be affected by the atmosphere. As such, she must be careful in her approach. If she decides to approach at all.]

Correct. I am Beatrix of Alexandria.

[Although she has to wonder if that means anything to this version of the man. Perhaps his experiences with her directly are capable of colouring the knowledge he holds in this world, though this is, certainly, not the same Hans she's familiar with. It doesn't feel like the same man who she once caught firing cupid arrows at innocent citizens. It doesn't feel like the same man who's been willing to share conversation with her and his insight. It doesn't feel like the same man who's found optimism in hopes and dreams where she has had few or none.]

The distance was nothing, I assure you. [Eyeing him thoughtfully, her head tilts.] You seem to be taking well to your role.