[ The word 'magic' doesn't slip by her completely when one of the throng mentions it, and this person, her rescuer, is known for it?

Perhaps she's landed in a very strange place indeed.

She takes in a deep breath and draws herself up once people start dispersing, but her chin and gaze stay down, her spare hand clasped in front of her chest. The other's still holding her new umbrella. At mention of a coffeeshop, she nods and starts forward to follow. Acquiescence is automatic and easy. This new woman obviously knows how to get by in this place.

She offers the extra protection of the umbrella as she falls into step. ]

Thank you, miss. Large groups of people like that... I always feel like they're pressing into me. It seems to make it hard to breathe.