Seventy-seven cycles - what does that mean, seventy-seven years? There's a wave of panic, only a small wave, before the conversation continues without her and she is left standing there, still waiting for an answer on whether or not she can move.

Enough of that. "Okay, that's enough of that," she says out loud, and steps out of the analysing eyes of MOTHER to march up to Wrathion and Magni both.

"I'll thank you to both stop speaking about me like I'm an oddity when I'm right in the room, and you - " Rudely, she points at Wrathion, "you especially. You do realise that we're practically speaking another language? There are not enough stories in the world to quite make up for experiencing Azeroth firsthand, Wrathion, and you're just...tossing out names and I'm not following."

And he should know by now how angry it makes Hermione to not be the smartest in the room. So she crosses her arms, and doesn't stomp her feet by sheer strength of will, and chooses stubbornness instead. "I've adapted to waking up in a cage in Taravast so I am sure I can survive a deviation here. This literally is not the first time I have jumped across universes."